


Teen Wolf Gets Kinky 2020

by kestra_troi



Series: My Kinktober 2020 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha Peter Hale, Alpha Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Office, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Anonymous Sex, Armpit Kink, Ass to Mouth, BDSM Scene, Bedroom Sex, Beta Derek Hale, Beta Peter Hale, Beta Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Body Modification, Bottom Derek Hale, Bottom Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Bottom Sheriff Stilinski, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Breeding, Cheating, Claiming Bites, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Slapping, Cock Warming, College Student Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Come Sharing, Come Shot, Come as Lube, Comeplay, Crack Relationships, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Dom Chris Argent, Dom Peter Hale, Dom Stiles Stilinski, Dom/sub, Established Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Established Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Established Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Face-Sitting, Facials, Father/Son Incest, Felching, Feminization, First Full Moon, First Time Bottoming, Fisting, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Friends With Benefits, Fuckbuddies, Full Shift Werewolves, Glory Hole, Halloween Costumes, Hate Sex, Healthy Relationships, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Sex, Incest, Infidelity, Inspired by a Movie, Kinktober 2020, Knotting, Latex, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Lube, M/M, Mario Kart References, Married Sex, Masks, Masturbation, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Spanking, Older Man/Younger Man, Orgasm Control, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Overstimulation, Parent/Child Incest, Peter Hale is Jackson Whittemore's Parent, Peter Hale is a Little Shit, Peter Hale's Alpha Form, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Video, Post-Canon, Prostate Milking, Public Blow Jobs, Public Masturbation, Public Sex, References to Knotting, Rimming, Ritual Sex, Rubber, Safe Sane and Consensual, Scent Kink, Scents & Smells, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski are Roommates, Scott is a Tease, Scottyween, Secret Relationship, Self-Lubrication, Semi-Public Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Sex Toys, Sexist Language, Sexual Experimentation, Sexual Roleplay, Sexuality Crisis, Shame, Sleepwalking, Slurs, Slut Shaming, Spanking, Stiles Stilinski Has a Big Dick, Sub Derek Hale, Sub Peter Hale, Sub Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Sub Stiles Stilinski, Sweat, Tattooed Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Top Chris Argent, Top Peter Hale, Top Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Top Sheriff Stilinski, Top Stiles Stilinski, Triple Drabble, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Underage Masturbation, Vibrators, Video & Computer Games, Werewolf Sex, Wolfed Out Sex, scott mccall is legal, scottslashnetwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26753560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kestra_troi/pseuds/kestra_troi
Summary: Instead of using a single, multi-chapter behemoth work/post for all my Kinktober fics, this year I will be separating them into fandoms. This is where all my Teen Wolf Kinktober fics will hang out, obviously.Chp 1: DAY 1 OVERSTIMULATION + SEX TOYS (Steter)Chp 2: DAY 3 FISTING (Sciles)Chp 3: DAY 4 LATEX + COCKWARMING + SENSORY DEPRIVATION (Scott x Chris)Chp 4: DAY 8 GLORYHOLE + HATE SEX (Peter x Derek x Chris) [For more context please read 'Gas Station Gloryhole' first; this is set in the same AU]Chp 5: DAY 10 PUBLIC SEX + DADDY KINK (Stilinskicest) [Sequel to 'The First Thanksgiving']Chp 6: DAY 12 FEET (Sciles) [Companion piece to Chp 2]Chp 7: DAY 14 INFIDELITY + DADDY KINK (Chris Argent x Scott)Chp 8: DAY 15 SWEAT + ARMPIT KINK (Scerek)Chp 9: DAY 16 FACE-SITTING + BREEDING KINK (Steter) [Companion piece to my fic 'Chastity']Chp 10: DAY 21 FEMINIZATION + BREEDING KINK (Peter x Chris x Derek)Chp 11: DAY 24 MASTURBATION (Peter)Chp 12: DAY 25 SPANKING (Scott) [Triple Drabble] {Inspired by another fic}Chp 13: DAY 27 XENOPHILIA (Sceter, Scott x Peter) Noncon/Dubcon WarningChp 14: Scottyween Ficlet (Scott x the Sheriff)
Relationships: Chris Argent/Derek Hale, Chris Argent/Derek Hale/Peter Hale, Chris Argent/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Peter Hale, Derek Hale/Scott McCall, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Peter Hale/Scott McCall, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall/Sheriff Stilinski, Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski/Stiles Stilinski
Series: My Kinktober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948558
Comments: 25
Kudos: 389





	1. Ruthless Efficiency

Taking his own sweet time, Peter lowered the suction tube onto the boy’s long, thick cock. The college sophomore squirmed as the device encircled his sensitive glands and his already throbbing shaft. A full week without busting his nut even once had left him with a serious case of blue balls. Peter smirked, watching the boy fidget but unable to move given all the restraints. 

“Squirm all you want, sweetheart,” Peter told him. He caressed the kid’s tight ball sac slowly drawing his fingertip up and down the seam.

“Fuck, dude!” Stiles shuddered, instinctively trying to close his legs together, but the shin straps that covered his legs didn’t have much give. 

With a broader smirk, Peter rubbed the pad of his thumb in circles around each testicle in turn. “I’m going to milk you for every last drop.”

Half snorting, half moaning, Stiles smiled for the camera. 

Peter flicked the kid’s left nut to bring him down a notch and then got out from between Stiles’ splayed legs. He shook his head fondly. Alphas always think they’re golden, untouchable. They always think that nothing can break them down into whimpering, mewling sluts. They always think multiple orgasms are the holy grail until he proves them wrong. Suitably offscreen now, Peter smiled. Breaking down cocky Alphas was his favorite hobby and his truest passion next to teaching of course. 

Flicking a switch, Peter leaned back still safely out of frame and watched the suction begin. Stiles groaned softly as the machine attached to his dick noisily whirred to life and began tugging at his foreskin. He bit his plush lower lip and tried to roll his hips and thrust up into the suction, but Peter had strapped him down tight across the hips and midsection so all he could really do was wriggle. 

The machine started to slide up and down his shaft, squeezing his cock in a wet, rubbery embrace and all he could do was take it. “Duuuude,” he drawled, realizing he didn’t have as much control over this as he had expected. Peter smugly stepped forward and ran his hand down the boy’s flushed chest. Stiles moaned, doing his best to arch into the warm, gentle touch. 

“We are going to have such a good time tonight,” Peter promised, a hint of sarcasm coloring his tone. Stiles quailed, stuttering out a gasp as the machine picked up steam. 

The first orgasm hit quickly just like always. Stiles strained against his bonds, but they held in place as a thick stream of come got sucked out of his dick and up into a tube that led to a specially made repository at Peter’s feet. He crossed his arms and ogled the boy’s wiry, but muscled frame tense and shake through his climax all flushed and smooth. The young ones were always the most fun.

Stiles groaned as the machine unrelentingly continued sucking his cock. “Jesus,” he swore. “Fuuck!  _ Dude _ !?”

“What’s the matter, Alpha?” Peter raised the suction up a notch then swanned over to his helpless young stud and positioned himself by his side. “Can’t keep it up after one little orgasm?”

“You’re such an asshole,” Stiles quipped, sticking his tongue out at the older man. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, concentrating on the sucking sensation to find the pleasure in it and keep himself in the game. He liked a challenge. Peter grinned. He liked this kid. The snarky attitude, the youthful bravado, the gorgeous cock. Willing to lend a hand, he reached down and lightly pinched at Stiles’ pink, peaked nipple. 

The kid practically broke his back in surprise, desperately arching into his hand. “Holy God,” Stiles wailed, his cock rocketing back to full hardness. He blushed and turned away. Peter gave his nipple a little twist and Stiles shook all over. “You dick!”

“Ready for round two?” Peter walked behind his captive boy and dragged his hands down the kid’s heaving chest. He pulled and plucked the boy’s supremely sensitive nipples all the way through Stiles’ second orgasm.

Another flood of come got suctioned out gurgling up the tube over to the repository. Not as much as the first, yet still just as intense. Stiles huffed and puffed, his breathing ragged as the machine bounced on his softening cock. 

Peter left him in the throes of his climax and crossed back to his control panel. He lowered the power then stepped between Stiles’ spread legs. He eased the suction hose up off the kid’s cock and grabbed a squirt bottle of lube. He gazed down at the soft member and smirked. “Is that all you’ve got, Alpha?”

“I freaking hate you, dude,” Stiles sniped, rolling his eyes in a huff.

“Just wait,” Peter ominously intoned. With a flash of a smile he quickly drizzled a line of lube onto Stiles’ flaccid cock. Stiles sharply inhaled, the cold lube like ice after the powered suction of the tube. He groaned as Peter took his dick in hand and pumped his shaft again and again. Coaxing him back to hardness. 

“There we are,” Peter cooed. “Good boy.”

“Fuck you,” Stiles bit out.

“Maybe later.” Peter stroked the kid’s dick in double time then released the red, throbbing prick to handle the suction hose. He again lowered the tube over Stiles’ shaft and stepped away. 

The machine kicked on a second later. 

A slight crack showed through the bravado. Stiles groaned and his eyes fluttered as that constant, artificially consistent suction started up. Slow at first, but Peter increased the speed moment by moment until the thing was bouncing on his dick. Stiles writhed under the onslaught, his dick extremely sensitive after two orgasms back to back. He threw his head back into the headrest and growled at the ceiling. 

Peter adjusted the semi in his designer jeans. He could watch this kid come for hours. He was so noisy, so fidgety, so eager to prove his stuff. 

The third orgasm took longer than the first two. Expectedly so. In the end Peter graciously agreed to play with the boy’s nipples to help get him over the hump. Stiles whined, thighs flexing intensely against the straps trying to close the gap between his legs as another load was milked out of him. 

As before, the gush of come was suctioned away, less than a handful this time. Stiles trembled, sweat building at his temples as the pleasure of his orgasm turned into an inescapable ache. He whined, eyes heavy after so much work. He turned his red face away from the camera as the suction tube kept jumping up and down his partially wilted and oversensitive shaft. Stiles sharply inhaled when Peter clipped two clamps to his nipples and walked off. 

A moment later, Peter settled himself between the kid’s legs again, fondly grazing the tips of his fingers around the boy’s sticky ball sac. Stiles grunted, eyes glazed as he stared down his body to the Beta playing with his nuts. Peter smiled at him serenely. “I know you’ve got more in here, sweetheart.”

Stiles grunted softly, while sluggishly pulling at his restraints. He licked his lips. “You’re evil,” he mumbled.

“You have no idea.” Peter put his best villain smile on for the camera. He fondled Stiles’ balls coating them and his fingers in lube as he slowly made his way down the kid’s taint to his tight, lightly haired hole. Stiles mewled. He panted. He gasped as Peter slid a finger into his ass. Peter shushed him, petting Stiles’ hip as he fingered him. 

He was two fingers in and tickling the kid’s prostate when orgasm number four finally hit. The suction hose burped as the few globs of come were sucked out into the tubing. Stiles sagged, shivering under the heartless machine. Peter withdrew his fingers and helped lift the device off of Stiles quickly softening erection. The tube splattered a trickle of leftover jizz down onto Stiles’ overheated cock. 

Shutting off the machine, Peter wiped his lubed hands clean with a towel. “Is my pretty, little Alpha all done?”

Stiles stubbornly shook his head. Peter chuckled. This kid was perfect. “Good.”

Peter opened a drawer off screen and picked out another toy. The curved bulbous rod was a deceptively powerful vibrator. One from his own personal line of sex toys. He showed it to Stiles and asked if the boy thought he would need it in order to come again. Stiles wearily nodded. 

“Good boy,” Peter murmured as he coated the rod in lube and eased it into Stiles’ hole. The rounded handle also doubled as a taint massager, not that he mentioned it to his newest star. This kid was going to be bringing in tons of views and revenue. His regulars liked the noisy pretty boys and Stiles was easily the noisiest and prettiest yet. 

Using his hands and another generous helping of cold lube, Peter managed to work Stiles up into another erection. Stiles whimpered as he hardened thanks to Peter repeatedly tracing his finger around his glans. Stiles whimpered again once Peter lowered the slimy suction tube onto his aching cock. “Every drop,” Peter reminded him. Stiles growled. 

The dance began again. 

The machine kicked on and Stiles tensed at the pull on his foreskin, the relentless tug at the tip of his cock, the suction on his shaft. He clenched his teeth and grunted like a caveman, his hands tightening into fists. At least until Peter switched on the vibrator.

Stiles’ back bowed off his chair as his prostate got shooketh from both sides. He panted harshly, fidgeting again with renewed vigor at the overwhelming stimulation. His fifth orgasm took him by surprise. All that came out were just a few measly globs. Stiles sagged into his bonds like a boxer on the ropes, worn and shaky and drifting. 

Peter blindfolded the kid, helping him to focus on achieving his sixth and hopefully last orgasm. “As long as it’s dry,” Peter remarked as he removed the clamps from Stiles’ nipples. Stiles whimpered and gibbered nonsense which turned into bitten off shouts and choked moans when Peter began teasing his now hypersensitive nipples once more. 

“You’ve been such a good boy for me, Stiles,” Peter lewdly whispered in the kid’s ear. “Such a good Alpha. Coming so much for me. You can do it one more time for me can’t you, sweetheart?”

Stiles shuddered. 

It took nearly thirty minutes for his sixth and driest orgasm to finally hit. Peter beamed at the kid as he shut off all the devices and moved them out of the way. They were going to make a fortune together on this video. After all, who doesn’t like to watch a cocky, barely legal twink Alpha get his big cock milked dry?


	2. Bros Who Kink Together, Stay Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles experiment with a new kink: fisting.

One at a time, Stiles feeds each finger into the appropriate slot in the glove and pulls it down his wrist, letting go of the elastic band just to hear that oh so satisfying  _ snap _ . He smirks, wiggling his gloved fingers in front of his face, already chubbing up in his sweatpants. “All set, dude,” he announces grandly to the room. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Scott hollers back from their bathroom. A second later, the bathroom door opens and Scott emerges. Sexy, ‘hot girl’ Scott wearing nothing but a crop top and a jockstrap. Showing off sinful amounts of beautifully brown skin. Stiles gapes as he looks his best friend and roommate over. “Dude, you are like, every bi guys wet dream come to life.”

“Shut up,” Scott demurres, flushing adorably pink. Raising his eyes back up, he glances over at Stiles sitting on their bed and double checks, “You got the lube?”

Stiles taps the lid of the jar of lube right next to his leg. “I got the good stuff right here,” he chirps while wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. They both chuckle and Stiles reaches out, making grabby motions with his hands. “Now bring that big, beautiful bubble butt on over here. Daddy’s ready to play!”

Scott snorted, “Dude.” They had discussed this already. The whole Daddy thing was not going to be a thing between them. 

Nevertheless, Scott complied and stepped over to their bed. Once he got into range Stiles nabbed him, grabbing him by the hips to reel him in closer. “So you’re...into this?” Scott asked for the hundredth time. “I mean--you’re okay with trying this out? With me?”

“Course, dude,” Stiles harrumphed, mildly insulted that Scott would even ask. Again. Especially at this point, but hey Scott was a cautious kitten. Stiles smoothed his hands past the straps of his best friend’s jock to grope and squeeze Scott’s pert, toned cheeks. “We’re bros for life. Just try and stop me!”

Scott chuckled, his face turning pink again as his friend played with his ass like a kid with playdough, except for the mashing. Stiles didn’t mash, but he did smack a little, but only because Scott liked it. 

Eventually, Scott bent down, draping himself over his best friend’s lap, purposefully cutting into Stiles’ little impromptu play session. Stiles pouted, making a wistful noise before moaning a little as Scott’s junk brushed over his crotch while his friend got settled. Stiles’ cock shot right up, tenting his sweatpants something awful. He thanked his lucky stars that he had opted for sweatpants earlier and not his usual skinny jeans because Little Stiles did not like confining spaces. 

Stiles bit his lip, getting back to the task at hand. “You ready, dude?” Stiles laced his fingers and stretched out his arms in front of him to pop every joint he could. He clenched and unclenched his fists and shook them out, like he did before a long gaming marathon. All in the name of maximum dexterity. 

“Yeah,” Scott replied, his own semi pushing lightly at the confines of his old jock. He glanced over his shoulder catching the last few seconds of Stiles’ warm-up. “Are you?”

“Hell, yeah!” Stiles unscrewed the lid of the special water-based lube they had bought specifically for today, and tossed it over onto their bedside table. He licked his lips, rubbing and kneading Scott’s bare cheeks as part of the warm-up process. It’s important to get the blood flow pumping! 

With that done, Stiles dipped the pointer finger of his gloved hand into the lube and gathered up a nice glob. He smeared the slippery mess up and down the length of his fingers. “Kay, dude, here we go,” he advised. Scott nodded and crossed his arms on top of the pillow in front of him so he could rest his chin on them. This was going to take some time. 

Stiles pried apart Scott’s epic ass cheeks to get a glance at his best bud’s tight, dark pink hole. He dragged his lubed pointer finger gently around his buddy’s rim. Scott made a soft noise in the back of his throat and sagged into his lap. “You good, bro?” Stiles quipped, arching his eyebrow like the cocky shit he was. 

A moment later, Scott snickered, “So good, bro.”

Their little ritual check-in.

All systems go, Stiles grinned to himself and tickled Scott’s pucker with his finger making annoying coochie coo noises. “ _ Stiles _ ,” Scott grumbled, embarrassment coloring his tone and his expression. 

“Couldn’t resist,” Stiles explained. He slipped his finger into his best friend and Scott took it easily. 

After years of fooling around together Scott had gotten super good at taking dick and fingers and tongues and other stuff up his gorgeous ass. It was one of Stiles’ favorite things about their whole arrangement. Scott’s ass was a thing of beauty. And getting the chance to get up close and personal with it on a regular basis was just so damn awesome!

Stiles spun his finger around inside his friend’s hole to get the lubing process started. Everything he had read online about fisting had said to: a) take things slow, b) wear a glove, c) have fun, and d) use lots and lots of lube. 

Check, check, check, and check! So far, so awesome!

Withdrawing his finger, Stiles bumped his knuckles up the crack of Scott’s ass and down to his taint to ensure he covered everything in lube. Just to be safe. Scott groaned softly, turning his head to rest a reddened cheek on his arms. His cock surged forward able now to poke Stiles in the leg. 

For his part Stiles quickly scooped up more lube in his palm and coated his fingers again. He painted Scott’s crack sloppily with the stuff making sure to give his friend some extra protection. 

‘Dryness is the enemy!’, he had read somewhere while scouring the web for tips and how-to’s regarding anal fisting. ‘The wetter the better!’, was another catchphrase or motto or headline or something. Stiles got that message and ran with it. He paused a moment and got more lube, then slid two fingers into Scott’s ass. “Feel good so far, dude?” 

“Mm-hmm,” Scott mumbled, dreamily, pushing his ass back onto his friend’s fingers. Two digits was routine for them at this point. Easy breezy. Stiles scissored him open like usual, but more slowly. Usually, at this point he would be too horned up to keep going with just fingers. Little Stiles liked Scott’s ass a lot! 

Scott bit his lip to stifle another happy noise. He didn’t want to peak too soon. Not on their first real try. “More.” 

“Yes, sir.” Stiles saluted even though Scott wasn’t facing him and couldn’t see his ridiculous gesture. He jiggled Scott’s cheeks again just to make sure his point got across while he grabbed another handful of lube. Three fingers was the usual if they were going to do anything more than a quick and dirty pump and dump. Three fingers deep was a good standard prep for any sort of penetration as it turned out, so in three went. 

Scott sharply inhaled releasing a small, breathy moan as he fought the urge to tense up. 

Stiles smirked, his own cheeks flushed now. Hearing Scott’s sex noises always got him mad hard and now was no exception. His cock was throbbing in his sweats basically screaming ‘Touch me! Hold me! Stroke me!’, but Stiles bit his bottom lip and ignored it. Today the focus was on Scott and his hot little hole. His own pleasure could wait. Which wow! Who saw that personal development coming? Postponing gratification? He was such an adult.

Twisting his wrist from side to side, Stiles gave Scott’s pucker a good stretch. Getting him good and loose was important for the rest of what they had planned. Stiles curled his fingers. “ _ Duuude _ ,” Scott whined, rocking forward into Stiles’ leg, humping him a bit, while also pushing back to get those long fingers deeper inside him. 

“Yeah, you love it,” Stiles boasted, confidently shaking Scott’s ass cheeks with his bare hand for added fun while he simultaneously, repeatedly brushed his fingertips along Scott’s prostate like a buzzer on a game show. Scott groaned low in the back of his throat, his eyes fluttering shut. He loved getting his ass played with nearly as much as he liked eating ass in the first place. And he loved that a lot!

They set up a nice, easy rhythm. Stiles pushed forward, throwing in some diddling of Scott’s prostate to make the stretching fun, while Scott arched his back and rode his best friend’s fingers. Good times were had by all. 

Stiles squirmed a little, his leg bouncing up and down, his cock primed and ready to sink into that warm, wet hole like he normally would. His reaction was positively Pavlovian. He squinted his eyes and shook his head refusing to go down that road even though his dick very much wanted him to. Bad dick! Very bad dick! Maybe later...Stiles smoothed his fingers all around the curves of Scott’s rim inside and out before retracting his fingers again.

“Fuck me, dude,” Scott panted.

Stiles grinned from ear to ear. “My thoughts exactly,” he confessed, blindly digging his fingers around for more lube. “I wanna dick you so bad, dude. Your ass is da freakin’ bomb, man! But ya know. Later.”

“Later,” Scott echoed, nodding his head. 

Stiles slathered more lube onto Scott’s crack and the outer rim. Up to the small of his back and down passed his taint to his balls. The whole shebang. Lube, lube, and more lube. Stiles dipped three fingers into Scott again glad to see the progress they were making. Scotty’s tight rim was relaxing, taking his fingers so well. “You ready for a fourth or wanna hang around three for a bit, Batman?”

“Three’s good,” Scott sighed. 

“Righty ho,” Stiles acknowledged. He splayed his fingers inside Scott. He twirled them around separately then together over and over to work Scott open. They fell into another round of syncing fingers and ass. 

The repetitive motions dropped Stiles off into something of a trance. He softened a bit in his sweats as his mind followed a tangent down a rabbit hole of school work and books and essays. He had one due Thursday for Criminology. He needed to get started on it or--

Scott raised his voice, “Stiles!”

“What? Yeah. Huh?”

“I’m ready for four,” Scott reiterated. 

“Oh, shit, dude, sorry,” Stiles apologized, properly this time. He withdrew his fingers. “My mind wandered.”

“It’s all good,” Scott said fairly. Laidback as ever as he sank down onto the bed and his best friend’s lap. “You’re doing amazing. Feels so good.”

Stiles blushed. “Thanks, man.”

Adding a dollop of lube to his palm Stiles brought his hand back to Scott’s now slightly puffy rim. He went in one at a time: first, second, and third. Then once Scott gave him the verbal go-ahead he slid the fourth one home. Was that the right metaphor? Anyway, his pinkie went in effortlessly. Scott fidgeted in his lap and Little Stiles sprang back to rock hard in nanoseconds. 

It made him a bit dizzy, lightheaded. Licking his lips, Stiles pulled his hand out, then slid it back in. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. He got his four fingers probing Scott like he was pushing a key into a lock or sliding his bank card into an atm. 

Scott mewled. He writhed on Stiles’ fingers, adjusting rapidly to the slight stretch. Stiles gave him a few sharp hand thrusts then gingerly pulled out again, to Scott’s chagrin. “ _ Duuuuuuude _ ,” he whimpered, reaching back to cup his own ass. He dropped his face into his pillow and used both hands to pry his cheeks apart for Stiles. 

“Thumbs all that’s left,” Stiles reported, his own breathing a bit ragged at this point. He gathered another glob of lube onto his damp glove making sure to smear it thickly over all five of his fingers. “Think you’re ready for it?”

“Fuck, yeah,” Scott swore, immediately turning beet red at his own language. Stiles moaned under his breath. When Scotty cursed it meant shit was getting real. “Want it,” Scott babbled into his pillow. “Want it so bad, dude.”

Scott pushed his ass out, presenting his wet, exposed hole to his best friend in the whole world. “This is so  _ fucking  _ hot, Scotty,” Stiles mused. He brought the tips of his fingers to Scott’s prepped rim. “We’ll, uh, take it slow, kay?”

“I’ll take it,” Scott mindlessly slurred. “I can take it.”

“Yeah, you can, dude,” Stiles affirmed. He sank three fingers to the first knuckle then teased Scott’s rim with his pinkie before pushing it in too. He rotated his hand back and forth, biting his bottom lip in concentration as he moved his fingers out and made the classic, duck bill gesture that was the recommended handshape for beginners. 

Sliding in beak first as it were, he got his whole hand into Scotty. 

With a hearty groan, Scott sagged, panting and wheezing at the fuller stretch. His dick wilted, but he didn’t mind or even notice. His whole body tingled and buzzed. “Jesus, dude,” Stiles cussed his voice soft with awe, staring at his best friend’s hole clenching around his thin wrist. “You’re so  _ warm _ .”

Scott sputtered, moaning as Stiles experimentally twisted his wrist one way, then the other. Scott’s sweaty fingers slipped, skating down his ass cheeks for a moment before he could get his mind functioning enough to readjust his grip. He gasped. Stiles froze. “Move,” Scott demanded, voice reaching new octaves. “ _ Please _ !”

For once, Stiles had nothing to say. Instead he simply obeyed. 

He ended up fisting his best friend’s ass for the better part of the afternoon.


	3. A Quiet Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott gets a latex body suit as a gift from his Dom.

The box on their bed contained his custom made bodysuit and Scott nearly squealed with excitement when he saw it. He grinned from ear to ear, his entire body buzzing as he carefully lifted the latex out of the box. His heart melted just a little in his chest. A full body latex suit was not cheap, but Chris had bought one for him anyway as a present.

Picking up the suit, Scott brought it to his face and took a whiff. All natural rubber with that peculiar hint of vanilla. Pure. Scott rubbed his nose into the lax material. This sort of high quality rubber was even more expensive. Scott smiled a soft, tender smile. One that spoke of genuine affection and kind gifts and a relationship years in the making. 

Scott laid the bodysuit out on the bed and hastily undressed. He tossed his clothes into his closet and grabbed the bottle of lube. He didn’t want to waste any time getting his new suit on.

Once he got properly lubed up, Scott got his feet into the suit and pulled the material up over his hairy legs. He scooped his junk into the crotch and brought the rubber up to his chest, adding lube as he went. Next came his arms. The hardest part to do on your own. 

Lubing his left arm Scott slipped it into the suit sleeve. As gently as possible he tugged the material closer until he could fit his fingers in the appropriate slots in the glove. He wiggled his fingers and grinned at the comfortable fit. Each finger felt perfectly encased, but not hampered or tight. His right arm gave him a little more trouble since his grip was more tenuous through the latex, but he managed. Then all that was left was to zip up the back. 

It took some doing, but Scott managed to nab the cloth zipper extender. He hauled it up and with a soft  _ ziiiiiiiip _ the latex closed in on him, hugging his skin tighter until the material settled snugly around his neck right up to his jaw. Scott let out a small, satisfied breath as the tension he always carried in his chest dissolved under the cool latex embrace. He ran his hands up his covered torso and down each of his arms. 

Held. Safe. Contained.

Scott smiled and watched his hands dance along the sleek, polished latex. Everything was slippery smooth. From his pits, to his chest, and down his sides. To his pert ass and almost featureless crotch. His balls tingled at the ridiculously velvety glide. He shivered, biting his bottom lip. He was almost ready. All that remained was the hood.

_ Tap, tap, tap. _ “Come in,” Scott called, excitement and gratitude bubbling in his chest. The door opened and Chris came in, smelling of gun oil, leather, and man. Scott beamed at him, throwing out his arms to show how perfectly everything fit. “Thank you.”

Chris nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Worth every penny,” he said, softly. 

Whipping around, Scott grabbed the separate hood that was still lying on the bed waiting to be put on. The move towards the bed was brief, but his thighs sliding against each other in the most even, feather light way was enough to make him blush. Scott ducked his head and held the hood out for Chris. “Do you want to do the honors?”

“You go ahead,” Chris kindly refused, backing up to lean against the wall so he could observe. Scott nodded and dribbled lube onto the inside of the hood to make sure it went on easily. He positioned the nose and mouth holes to be in front and then slipped the hood on over his head, gently maneuvering the latex until it met the end of the bodysuit. He smoothed down the edge and grinned at where he remembered Chris to be.

The latex sat over his ears muffling his hearing just enough to take the edge off and the lack of eye holes left him comfortably blind. Better than a blindfold because it had no rims or edges. He had to adjust the rubber somewhat so it would sit better around his nostrils and his mouth, but once he had the hood on straight he ran his hands over his covered eyes then up over the lump that was his smoothed-out hair.

He was ready. He heard Chris’ booted footsteps and dropped his hands to his sides. He widened his stance and brought his hands to rest behind his back standing at ease. He shivered as a warm hand that wasn’t his own skimmed over the smooth surface of his upper arm. “Just one last thing,” Chris said. 

A weight was placed around his neck. The shape was familiar, but the usual sensation was dulled by the latex. He could still smell the leather though. Scott exhaled as the buckle at the back of his collar was gradually tightened. His heartbeat ticked up a notch. Now, he was truly ready.

On the third belt hole, Chris paused. “Too tight?”

Scott swallowed and tested the give, first turning his head side to side then rolling his neck in a circle. “No, sir,” he answered.

With a  _ clink _ Chris snapped the leash they used onto the collar and gave an experimental pull. Scott moaned at the brief tug against his throat and bit his lip. “Easy,” Chris murmured, touching his shoulder. “Too loose?”

“No, sir.” Scott shook his head. 

The leash went slack. “As we discussed,” Chris reiterated. “You will serve for an hour.”

“Yes, sir,” Scott confirmed. 

“If you need to take a break?”

“I say pause,” Scott recited.

“Yes,” Chris affirmed. “And if you need to stop altogether?”

“Then I say stop.”

“The same goes for me. Are we clear? Do you have any questions?”

“Everything’s clear,” Scott replied. “And I have no questions, sir.”

Chris took up the leash again, wrapping the end around his knuckles. “Then are you ready to start?”

“Ready, sir.” 

Two sharp tugs and Scott walked forward, his cock rapidly filling out within the latex. He closed his eyes, wholly trusting in Chris to lead him since he couldn’t see anyways. They left the bedroom and walked down the hall to the living room. Scott could hear the television. He was pretty sure it was set to a sports channel even though it was at a low volume and he couldn’t quite discern any words.

Chris led them to the couch and sat down. Taking Scott by the hips he guided him onto the couch, so they were sitting side by side. Scott heard the slow grind of a zipper being unzipped and felt the subtle motions of a man adjusting his seat and his crotch. He felt a hand slide over the side of his face, cupping the back of his head. “Lay down, pup,” Chris commanded with real tenderness.

Scott stretched out his legs behind him and followed Chris’ directing pull until he was brought low enough for his chin to scrape denim. He shuffled forward, flopping a bit like a fish thanks to the slickness of the latex, but he got closer to Chris. Angling his head, Scott opened his mouth. Chris eased him towards his crotch, holding his soft cock out for Scott to find. 

Following his nose and the musk of the man he loved, Scott leaned forward until the spongy tip of Chris’ cock brushed his lips. He quickly wrapped his mouth around the head and scooted closer slowly sinking Chris’ flaccid cock all the way into his mouth. And there he stayed.

They had agreed upon an hour, but time was a foggy thing as Scott settled into his subspace. The weight of Chris’ cock on his tongue, the smell of his musk in every breath, the feel of his warm hand petting him in slow, possessive circles. 

Trapped and motionless, he had never felt so free. 


	4. The Hales and The Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Derek operate a gloryhole in a gas station and receive an unexpected visitor.

For most of the afternoon, Derek manned the stall alone. Peter arrived from wherever he’d been dressed in a suit and tie looking like an expensive, yet sleazy lawyer. “Hello, pup. Productive day?” 

His breath reeked of jizz. 

Derek, still on his knees from his last customer, slowly gazed up at his uncle, curious and questioning. He grabbed his uncle’s silk tie and yanked him down. 

Peter huffed in annoyance, but his smirk told a different story. He opened his mouth and let his nephew’s tongue sweep along his own. Derek moaned. There was only one taste on his uncle’s tongue. Derek blushed, his cock throbbing against the leg of his skin tight jeans. “He hates you, though,” Derek petulantly pointed out.

“True,” Peter affirmed, sinking to his knees beside his nephew. His smirk broadened into a smug smile. “But not even our illustrious sheriff can resist my skills.”

Snorting, Derek rolled his eyes. “He’s going to shoot you one of these days,” he grumbled, jealousy coloring his tone.

Condescendingly, Peter patted his nephew on the back and squeezed his shoulder. “Keep practicing your deepthroating and perhaps he’ll let you suck him off in his office. Twice.”

Derek gaped at his uncle who preened under his shocked expression. Just then the door to the gas station restroom audibly swung open and a man in thick leather boots with a surprisingly soft step entered. Peter put a finger to his mouth and Derek’s mouth snapped shut in irritation. 

The stall door next to theirs was pushed open and their new visitor stepped inside locking the stall door behind him. Their guest stood in his stall unmoving, clearly expecting them. Peter arched an eyebrow and nodded his head towards the gloryhole. Derek glared at his self satisfied uncle but nonetheless turned to his side, holding his mouth open and ready right in front of the gloryhole as was traditional. 

“Heard you were offering services,” the man declared, tinged with resignation.

Both werewolves perked their ears at that familiar voice. They glanced at each other in surprise and Peter’s face gradually morphed into one of mischief. 

Wary, Derek tilted his head in warning. His uncle waved off his concerns. “Hello, Christopher,” Peter greeted, full of fake charm.

“Peter?” Surprises all around then. Peter’s knowing grin turned even brighter. “You both—?”

“Customarily, men who come to anonymous gloryholes in dingy gas station restrooms to have their cocks sucked don’t make lots of conversation,” Peter intoned as if he were some sort of moral authority. The Hales knelt in silence as their guest processed, but they could both smell the embarrassment and anger and need radiating off the hunter. 

“I’m leaving,” Chris growled under his breath.

“Fine.” Peter shrugged. “There’s always plenty more waiting to come in. Have a nice day.”

Derek swatted his uncle’s shoulder. Peter frowned at him and nabbed his wrist to keep him from hitting him again. They waited in a silence that seemed to drag on. Neither the hunter nor the werewolves made a single move. 

“I hate you so much, Peter,” Chris swore.

“I know, darling,” Peter replied, flushed with victory. “But needs must. And you have such a mighty, stinky need.”

“I will shoot you,” Chris warned. 

“But not before you get your dick sucked,” Peter inferred. “By the two best cocksuckers in the county.”

“No.”

“Oh, come on, sweetheart,” Peter challenged, laying it on thick. “Don’t be that way. No need to play coy. We’re all men here. And besides we take all comers.”

Derek shook his head. This sort of posturing did nothing for him. His cock went soft ages ago even as his uncle’s arousal spiked. Peter adored drama. “For the record,” Derek announced, relishing in his uncle’s abrupt frown at his interjection. “I hate my uncle too.”

“Derek?”

“And as much as he lies, he wasn’t kidding about our schedules,” Derek continued. “So either put up or shut up.”

Peter sighed. “Do you always have to ruin my fun,” he hissed.

“He’s a good man,” Derek whispered back, yanking his hand out of his uncle’s grip. “You’ve messed around with enough good men for one day.”

“Ooh, I love it when you get jealous, pup,” Peter gloated, pointedly sniffing the air. He leaned forward and Derek huffed, but opened his mouth nonetheless. The two Hales kissed noisily and slow, Peter saw to that. He wanted their ambivalent guest to know just what exactly the situation was. Any opportunity to disgust someone, really.

Derek whined wantonly as his uncle’s tongue glided along his own chasing the taste of the men he had serviced so far this afternoon. Peter cupped the back of his nephew’s head while bringing his other hand to Derek’s crotch. He ran his fingers along Derek’s in-seam, tracing his nephew’s shaft, coaxing him to harden. Derek moaned. Peter growled in excitement.

There was no reaction from the other side of the stall divider. 

No condemnation, no revulsion, no furious withdrawal. Nothing, but the soft click of metal teeth being slowly undone. Both the Hales heard it and they both groaned eagerly into each other’s mouths, their kisses hungrier now, more passionate. 

Panting and flushed, they didn’t stop or slow their embrace until a long, hard cock poked through the gloryhole waiting to be served. Peter spotted it first and pulled his lips away from his nephew’s nipping teeth. Derek opened his eyes and saw it too, both of them catching their breaths as they studied the hunter’s cock, seeing it for the first time.

Chris wasn’t as thick as the good Sheriff of Beacon Hills, but he did have length. Easily seven inches or more. Peter licked his puffy lips. He preferred the girthier ones, but he wasn’t picky. As a devoted comewhore he’d learned to take any cock offered him no matter the shape or size. 

“Just Derek,” Chris stipulated, his voice barely audible even to the werewolves.

Pursing his lips, Peter rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he agreed. “Sharing the work or sharing the load, either way we share everything.”

“You’re disgusting,” Chris swore.

“And yet you’re still hard,” Peter rebuked.

“Just shut up,” Derek grunted. “Both of you.”

Peter glanced at his nephew with a modicum of respect and nodded silently. Derek returned the gesture and quickly reached out for Chris’ cock.

Gingerly, Derek ran his fingers along the shaft from the wall up to the tip. On the other side, Chris sighed, stepping forward more fully, until he was flush with the divider. Derek wrapped his hand around the base and stroked it as he leaned over and took the very very tip of Chris’ uncut cock between his lips. Chris moaned, despite his best efforts, getting louder as Derek gently tugged at his foreskin with his teeth. 

Peter unzipped his slacks while he watched his nephew start his attack, fishing out his erection and stroking it in time to Derek’s hand motions. Derek glanced at him from the corner of his eye, but hastily caught a string of Chris’ pre-come on his tongue before it could fall to the floor. Peter let his claws slink out of one hand and used it to pet his nephew’s denim covered thigh as he masturbated and Derek sucked an Argent cock.

Without the hefty thickness to trip him up, Derek could take Chris’ cock easily. He still took his time, but he did eventually get his nose pressed into the stall divider with Chris’ cock throbbing in his throat. Never one to be denied, Peter leaned forward and flicked his tongue around the bulge in his nephew’s throat. 

Derek whimpered. Chris gasped. But they all kept going. 

“I’m going to…” Chris panted, not too long later.

“Pull off, pup,” Peter whispered in Derek’s ear. “Let him come on your face.”

Unable to refuse, Derek worked Chris over the edge and after swallowing the first couple spurts did indeed pull off and let the rest erupt over his face. Chris grunted as he released, unwilling to do more even as Derek pumped his shaft for every drop. 

Strings of come landed in Derek’s beard on either side of his swollen mouth. Globs of come splashed onto his reddened cheeks. And the last shot splattered onto his left eyebrow dangerously close to dripping into his eye. 

Peter immediately licked up the come in Derek’s facial hair, swiping his tongue threw the mess on his nephew’s cheeks as well. Then he stood up and hurriedly added his own load to the side of Derek’s face. No Argent was getting to mark Derek again as long as he lived. 

Covered in two loads of warm come, Derek mewled, groping his own bulge to push himself that last little bit while he suckled the softening cock. He came in his jeans, ruining his boxer briefs and his high end denim, but none of that mattered. The smell of jizz was heavy in the air and Chris’ cock needed cleaning. 

Before that could happen however, Chris pulled his cock back through the gloryhole and zipped up. “Leaving so soon,” Peter tutted. 

“I can’t wait to end you,” Chris promised. He knocked the stall lock open, slammed his door out of his way, and stalked off. 

“Come again,” Peter chimed, plenty proud of himself. 

“I hate you both so much,” Derek mumbled as he carefully scooped come away from his eye. 

“Nonsense,” Peter rebutted, tucking his cock away once he finished wiping it off with a handkerchief. Redressed, he leaned down and licked his nephew’s face clean, pinning his tie to his chest so it wouldn’t get stained. “Now it’s nearly time for dinner and I have a standing appointment with a certain arm of the law.”

“Three times in one day?! Seriously?!”

Peter smiled so big he looked like a villain from a campy horror movie. “You’re welcome to tag along, dear nephew,” he said pretending to be gracious. “To see how a master works.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Derek groused.

“It’s been said,” Peter affirmed, already unlocking their stall. He opened their door and stared at his reflection in the mirror with that smug tilt to his lips. “And it is so true.”


	5. On The Eighth Day Of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janusz and Stiles take their incest out of the house.

Stiles had been right about the thinner crowds. Hardly anyone was at the theater at this time of night. When they arrived at the movie house, Stiles paid for two tickets to some random action flick and in they went. For once, there wasn’t a ridiculous line at the concessions, not that Janusz expected to buy anything. His son however peeled off and snatched up a bottle of water. “In case we get dehydrated,” he said with a wink. Janusz flushed pink, then on they went to the ticket-taker. 

“Last theater on the right,” the attendant droned slouching in his stool and leaning on his little podium. The two Stilinski men nodded politely and headed to their designated theater. 

“Oooh,” Stiles cooed, practically bouncing on his feet. “This is so exciting!”

“Easy, kiddo,” Janusz shushed, quickly scanning the hallway. A couple people were loitering around the restrooms down at the other end of the hall, but otherwise they were pretty much alone. The same held true for their theater. A few single men dispersed randomly throughout, but not many at all.

Stiles bounded up the stairs with his usual endless energy and stopped at the very last row. Janusz followed his son at a more sedate pace. When he reached the back row, Stiles was already seated in the middle and was patting the seat next to him wearing his trademark I’m-up-to-something-naughty look. 

Obstinate like his son, Janusz decided to forgo the seat Stiles had selected for him and instead took the empty one to Stiles’ left. “Oh, come on, Daddy,” Stiles whined as his father passed in front of him. He patted the seat to his right more forcefully. “This way you’ll be dead center.”

The way he wriggled his eyebrows made it very clear the sort of things he wanted to do with his right hand. Janusz snorted. “I’m fine where I am,” he said gruffly. Years of chicanery had taught him just how efficient his son was with his hands. The lights dimmed and the screen darkened, putting Stiles and his facetious pout in shadow. In a low whisper, Janusz added, “Now behave yourself and watch the movie.” 

Partway through the opening explosion of the movie, Stiles casually reached down and groped his father’s bulge. Janusz gulped, briefly fidgeting to throw off his son’s hand and to his surprise Stiles let go. Janusz cleared his throat. This was going to escalate quickly.

The next time Stiles tried to grope him, Janusz allowed it for a moment, but then grabbed his son’s wrist before he could pull away. Patient as ever, he laid his son’s grasping hand on the armrest between them and settled his own hand on top of it. He gave it a squeeze as a sort of silent warning and then took his arm back. 

It didn’t take long for Stiles to go for his crotch again. This time though, Janusz was quicker to pull the trigger. Stiles barely got to touch his father’s hardening bulge before his hand got pinned down again. “Dude,” Stiles hissed, tugging futilely to get out of his father’s strong grip. 

“Shh,” Janusz replied. Stiles played along for a second and then began trying to free his hand only to fail and give up and then start all over again. 

“Daddy,” Stiles whined. That entitled, petulant tone made Janusz’s cock surge to full throbbing hardness. It shouldn’t have, but it did. Janusz bit his lip and made his decision. He released his son’s hand, crossing his legs to both hide and accentuate his noticeable bulge. 

A little bit later, Janusz saw his son’s long fingers twitching against the armrest and he made his move. 

Whipping around in his seat, Janusz bypassed his son’s wandering hand and grabbed Stiles’ crotch firmly. Before Sitles could even squeak, Janusz covered his mouth, then leaned over to whisper in his son’s ear. “You’re being a very nauthgy boy, Stiles, teasing your old man like that. Don’t you want to be a good boy for me, kiddo?”

As he spoke, Janusz groped his son’s instant hard-on. Stiles squirmed, moaning behind his father’s hand. He nodded, his erection aching as it pressed into his skin tight jeans. 

“I’m going to watch this movie and you are going to be a good boy and sit there quietly and not grope me again,” Janusz explained. He rolled the tip of his son’s trapped cock between his fingers and Stiles shook, eyes fluttering as his father teased him. “If you’re good for me, I’ll let you come, but you have to keep quiet and not make a sound.”

Stiles nodded furiously. 

Janusz turned back in his seat taking his hand off his son’s mouth, but keeping his firm hold of his son’s dick. He put his finger to his lips to indicate silence and Stiles nodded again. Janusz gave his cock a hard squeeze and Stiles barely had time to slap his own hand over his mouth before letting out a thoroughly aroused squawk. 

It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for Stiles to cream his jeans like a thirteen year old kid. And it was all his father’s fault! The unrelenting rubbing of his cock through the coarse denim. His father’s large, warm hand constantly pulling him almost out of his seat. The fact that they were out in public and they weren’t alone. Stiles bit his hand to keep from moaning too loudly while he sprayed the inside of his underwear with hot, sticky come. He sloped down in his seat, dazed, panting harshly through his orgasm. Hot and messy and mortifying all at once. 

Janusz kept up his torment until his son’s cock finally softened and Stiles squeaked with overstimulation. He patted his son’s thigh as a show of pride in Stiles’ obedience. 

Eyes trained forward, Janusz unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, fishing his own erection out of his old school boxers. He stroked his cock and leaned over. “Time to show Daddy what a good cocksucker you are,” he murmured. 

Almost immediately, Stiles was down on his knees in front of his father wrapping his lips around the fat tip. He lapped at his father’s slit, flicking his tongue around the head until he got a taste of pre-come. He moaned, savoring the flavor. “Stiles,” Janusz hushed, pushing his son’s head lower. Stiles went willingly. He had lots of experience sucking dicks professionally. Long, thick daddy cocks were his specialty. He used every trick he had picked up in the biz to get his father to come. 

What he hadn’t counted on though was his father’s stamina. 

The film was reaching its explosive, deafening climax when Janusz carded his fingers through his son’s short hair and under his breath said, “Get ready, kiddo.”

Stiles hummed in acknowledgement, drool escaping the corners of his mouth and sliding down his father’s shaft to his bush. Janusz sighed, and holding Stiles in place, began thrusting deeply into his son’s throat. Fortunately for them both, Stiles had lost his gag reflex years ago. Janusz bucked into that tight, wet channel over and over, face-fucking his only son. And then finally alongside what would be the film’s final explosion Janusz shot his load. 

Face red and splotchy, tears rolling down his cheeks, Stiles swallowed every drop. Like a champ. 

As the force of his orgasm faded, Janus released his hold and Stiles slurped off his father’s softening cock just in time to see the credit start to roll. He’d missed the movie. He merely shrugged. He’d seen it already with Scott days ago. 

The lights gradually came up. Stiles looked over at his father’s crotch still on display and properly impressive in the light even while flaccid. Impulsively, Stiles reached down and circled his fingers around his father’s length. With a couple light strokes he gathered up the excess come and spit off his father’s dick and popped his wet fingers into his mouth. 

“That was freaking hot,” Stiles declared, barely remembering to keep his voice down. Janusz grunted in affirmation, buttoning up his jeans as the attendant came in to clean up the theater and the few other patrons filed out. In a somewhat overdone voice, Stiles continued, “We should totally see this again before I head back to school.” 

“Maybe.” Janusz eyed the attendant warily as both Stilinski men got up from their seats and started walking down the stairs. “We’ll see, kiddo. We’ll see.” 


	6. I Win When I Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles are playing a video game when Scott gets crafty...

Hyperfocused on the game with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, Stiles didn’t notice when Scott shifted around next to him on the couch. He didn’t notice when Scott turned so that he laid across the couch instead of sitting on it. Nor did he notice when Scott slipped his feet onto his lap as their characters raced around the track. Stiles didn’t notice anything until halfway through the final lap when something brushed against his crotch. 

Confused, Stiles stared at his own crotch watching the sole of Scott’s foot prod the bulge in his gym shorts. He shuddered, his dick rapidly filling out at the dull touch. “Uh, dude?”

“Yeah?”

Suddenly, cheers and fireworks erupted from the game and Stiles’ head snapped back up. “Wha…,” he sputtered, watching Scott’s character, Birdo, celebrating while crossing the finish line in first place. Stiles’ face sank, his brow furrowing. “What the fuck?!”

“Guess, I won,” Scott replied, all cheek and good humor. Having won, he set down his controller and rubbed his heel into Stiles’ erection, pressing the shaft into Stiles’ thigh. 

For a beat, Stiles gaped at the screen, thrown for a fucking loop as the PCs passed him by in droves. Stiles just gawked, rendered speechless and senseless by the duplicity. The underhandedness. Scott could be so sneaky, so clutch sometimes it made Stiles’ dick throb and his balls tingle. 

With a growl, Stiles hastily clutched his controller and flew into catch-up mode. He managed fifth place and threw his controller down onto the carpet in frustration. “Dude?!” 

Crossing his arms, Stiles sank into their couch in a huff muttering in disbelief, “The trust, dude! Where’s the loyalty? I can’t believe you bonered me in order to win!”

“Well, I learned from the best,” Scott supplied in an attempt to assuage his best friend’s ego. It actually was the truth. Stiles wasn’t above getting handsy to distract him if it meant he could win. Scott smiled and angled his foot to the side, skimming his best friend’s shaft between two of his toes. Right up the line to the tip, which poked out of the leg of Stiles’ gym shorts. Scott gave the thick head a squeeze with his toes. 

“Damn right,” Stiles huffed. He squirmed in his seat unable to ignore the feel of Scott’s foot on his cock. “You totally owe me a footjob for that little maneuver.”

“Way ahead of you,” Scott rejoined, pleased as punch. He scooted his ass forward, moving closer to his best buddy so he could better see what he was doing. While he pumped the head between his toes, he carefully tugged Stiles’ gym shorts up with his other foot, then switched them around. While the balls of his right foot grazed the shaft, he used the toes of his left foot to tease the head and the slit. Stiles groaned, his arms falling onto his best friend’s legs. “This good, dude?”

“God! I love it when you’re a smart-ass,” Stiles gushed, his face flushed with arousal. He rubbed his hands up and down the backsides of his friend’s legs. “It's so freaking hot, dude!”

“You good, bro?”

“So good, bro,” Stiles returned, rolling his hips in small waves in order to thrust between his best friend’s toes. Impulsively, he grabbed Scott’s right foot and yanked it up to his face. “Damn, dude, I love your stanky feet.”

“I didn’t wear socks at the gym,” Scott explained. Stiles moaned, sniffing his friend’s sole. Premeditation just made it hotter. Stiles flicked his tongue around the heel and up the arch. Scott giggle-groaned, his toes curling at the ticklish sweep, his own cock starting to take an interest. Scott gripped his cock through his own pair of nylon shorts and moaned as Stiles started to suck on his toes. “D’you like your surprise?”

“You’re still a Cheater McCheaterson,” Stiles harrumphed while scraping his day-old stubble into the balls of Scott’s foot because he knew it would make him squirm. And it did. Stiles soothed the scratchy feel with long laps of his tongue. “But Christ, dude, I fucking love it,” he confessed into Scott’s sole.

“I think I do too,” Scott panted, wiggling both sets of toes. Stiles whined, bucking into one foot while slurping hungrily at the other. Scott blushed, his feet wet with saliva and a healthy amount of pre-come. Letting go of his own hard-on, he fumbled under the couch for the bottle of lube he had stowed away there in the morning before Stiles woke up. Stiles watched his buddy from the corner of his eye as he kissed and suckled every inch of his best friend’s smelly foot. 

Triumphant, Scott held up the lube and wagged his eyebrows. “You wanna fuck my feet?”

“Every damn day, you little shit,” Stiles hissed, a broad smile counteracting his words. Scott tossed the bottle of lube towards his best friend and chuckled as Stiles scrabbled to catch the slick tube, dropping Scott’s foot in the process. 

Hauling himself backwards so he could rest his head in the corner of the couch, Scott pulled his feet away and waved them back and forth his heels on the cushions to draw Stiles’ attention. It worked like a charm. Stiles’ eyes locked on those digits and didn’t budge while he blindly groped around for the tube of lube on the floor. “Are you gonna play with me, dude?”

“You’re evil,” Stiles huffed under his breath tearing his eyes away so he could finally nab the lube. He yanked it up victoriously, a mischievous grin on his face as he got onto his knees and crawled towards his laid out best friend. “You’re evil and must be destroyed.”

“Feet first,” Scott jokingly added. 

“Hell yeah,” Stiles affirmed, shaking up the lube before flicking the lid open and squeezing out a huge dollop of the stuff directly onto his friend’s feet. Scott hissed, laughing as Stiles dropped the lube onto the coffee table and smeared the lube all over his friend’s feet and between all his toes. “You’re going down, dude.”

“After you,” Scott rebutted, casually stroking his erection through his gym shorts. 

Stiles snorted. “I’d say we’ll see about that, but I’m totally nutting first, no question,” he said while jerking the leg of his gym shorts all the way up to his pubes with lube slick fingers. Scott nodded in agreement, catching the head of Stiles’ cock between his slippery toes. Stiles shuddered, practically convulsed, immediately thrusting into the tunnel made by Scott’s feet. “You’re the best, dude. The freaking best!”

Holding Scott’s feet close together, Stiles fucked them quick and dirty. He slid his shaft between the toes. He pumped the head against the mounds and snapped his cock between the soft, slick arches. Scott curled his feet to help his buddy along and stared avidly at his friend’s flushed, focused face while he jerked off. Stiles was so expressive. Seeing all the pleasure he elicited there, plain as day, always got his motor humming. 

“Fuuuu-uuuuuck, dude!” Stiles erupted, coating his buddy’s feet in jizz.

Scott came next, spurting heavily into his only pair of gym shorts. Oh well. Sacrifices must be made.


	7. We're Both Hollow And Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and his son-in-law have sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this back in 2014-ish, that era. Never got around to editing it, until now. I hope you enjoy!

Grabbing his son-in-law by the chin, Chris shoved his thumb into Scott’s mouth to help quiet the kid down while bouncing and moaning on Chris’ cock. Scott immediately began to suck on his father-in-law’s thumb. “Nasty punk,” Chris hissed, smacking Scott’s ass and yanking him down so they were forehead to forehead. “Using your dirty hole to milk my cock.”

Scott whined, sweaty and red faced. His thighs trembled with the effort of riding a dick as big and thick as his father-in-law’s. All that time practicing with dildos had paid off, he could take Chris now, but damn did it still burn. Scott rolled his hips, taking a microsecond break before lifting his ass up and slamming himself back down, clenching as best he could around his father-in-law’s cock. 

“That’s it, son,” Chris crooned, bumping his nose against Scott’s. “Work your tight, little ass. Make it good for Daddy.”

Doing his best, Scott mewled and squirmed when Chris began tugging at his soft cock. His dick had wilted taking Chris up the ass, but now it twitched fitfully trying to get hard in his father-in-law’s calloused palm. “Knew you were a faggot the moment I met you,” Chris murmured, his voice low and husky. Scott panted, feeling shaky and hot. “Knew you would jump on my cock the first chance you got. And here you are.”

Chris jerked his spit-damp thumb out of Scott’s mouth and wrapped his hand around Scott’s neck. He pulled the kid that last little bit closer and felt Scott’s dick throb as their lips crashed into each other some more. Scott groaned into his father-in-law’s mouth, his lips puffy and sore; the skin around his lips already red and irritated from Chris’ salt and pepper facial hair. “Fu-uuck,” Scott mumbled. “I think--Think I need a breather.”

Breaking the kiss, Chris let go of Scott’s semi-hard erection and rested his hand on the kid’s hip. Scott sagged on top of him, bracing himself against the back of the couch. Chris patted him on the cheek and let his hand slip down to Scott’s heaving chest. Scott’s heart thumped under his palm. “You’re a natural,” he told the boy. “Making me feel really good, son.”

“Daddy,” Scott sighed, blushing anew at the fondness in his father-in-law’s voice. A rare event. Chris smirked, running his hand over Scott’s well-developed chest and the tattoo that covered the kid’s right pec. He circled his thumb around his son-in-law’s light brown nipple until the nub hardened into a peak and then he pinched it between his thumb and forefinger.

Shuddering on top of his father-in-law, Scott inadvertently squeezed Chris’ cock, writhing in his lap. “You done sleeping on the job, punk?,” Chris taunted, bringing both hands up to Scott’s sensitive chest. He teased the boy’s nipples grinning as Scott couldn’t help but grind and rock and clench. “You like having Daddy’s big cock up your shit hole, don’t ya, faggot?”

“Yes, sir,” Scott squeaked, the head of his cock sweeping through his father-in-law’s belly hairs. 

“Alright, faggot, we’ll take this nice and slow.” Chris plucked alternately at Scott’s nipples, coaxing and prodding him into riding him again. Scott wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand and grabbed ahold of his father-in-law’s arms for balance as he rolled his hips in large, leisurely circles. “That’s it, son. Milk my cock like a good, little faggot.” 

“Daddy,” Scott panted, his tattooed hips swaying this way and that in sloppy arcs. He couldn’t help but be impressed with the guys in porn who did this sort of thing for a living; it was tougher than it looked. Scott bit his lip and all on his own started to rise up ever so slightly and impale himself on his father-in-law’s cock. 

“Dirty faggot,” Chris sneered, smirking. He let Scott set his own pace, still playing loosely with the boy’s tits as he slouched into his couch. He sighed softly through his nose, relaxing while his son-in-law explored his own limits. 

Of all the punks and freaks and losers his daughter had dated over the years, Chris counted himself lucky to have landed an easily trained, unknowingly bi slut like Scott. The kid was so starved for affection from an older man, daddy issues out the wazoo, and he had such a nice ass...Chris left Scott’s chest alone for a moment and instead swatted at the kid’s pert bubble butt. 

Scott whimpered, tensing at the sting again and again as Chris lightly spanked him and stared at his jiggling cheeks. He blushed, carding his hands through his father-in-law’s ample, carefully groomed chest hair. Chris snorted and grinned. Scott took this as his cue and started carefully kneading his father-in-law’s firm chest that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a guy half his age.

In no time at all, Scott found his rhythm speeding up again. Fully recovered, he rode his father-in-law with gusto, his hard cock dribbling pre-come onto Chris’ stomach. His ass stung now as much as it burned, but somehow the pain made it all better. He was really getting into it. 

“There ya go, son,” Chris panted, puffing out his chest under his son-in-law’s inexperienced hands. “Such a good faggot for Daddy. Making me feel so damn good, son.”

Faster now, Scott knocked his head back and groaned, a slut for any sort of praise from an older man. A fact Chris used to his full advantage. He laughed, running his hands up Scott’s sides before surging forward and wrapping his arms around the kid in a vise. He sucked at his son-in-law’s Adam’s apple and smirked as Scott thrashed under his lips. “Daddy,” Scott whimpered. “Sir!”

“You were made for taking cock,” Chris growled into his son-in-law’s throat. He kissed and nipped his way up to Scott’s ear and whispered, “Your dirty punk ass is so tight, baby. Love how it feels around my cock.”

“ _ Please _ ,” Scott blurted, his eyes screwed shut, his face twisted into a painful bliss. “Fuck me, Daddy.”

Chris licked the sweat off his son-in-law’s skin, relishing the taste of his total surrender. “You want Daddy to fuck your shit hole, baby? Want me to show you how a real man fucks?”

Scott nodded, totally gone. “Say it, bitch,” Chris demanded.

“Pound my ass, Daddy,” Scott muttered. “Pound my fuck hole, sir, please?!”

Claiming Scott’s lips in a heated, biting kiss Chris held the bouncing boy still, digging his teeth into Scott’s swollen lips until he sobbed quietly like a puppy. Chris pulled away and grinned. “Bend that sweet ass of yours over the arm of the couch, baby,” he instructed.

Once Chris let go, Scott grumbled softly at the loss, but obeyed, climbing off his father-in-law’s lap onto shaky legs. Bowlegged and oddly empty, Scott shuffled over to the far side of the couch and draped himself over the arm as he had been told. The head of his cock poked the leather arm, Scott pushed against the wall like he’d seen guys in porn do and stuck his ass out, hungry to be filled. 

Shame spiked through his chest. Not only was he cheating on his wife with her father, but he was acting like those needy bottoms in porn to boot. He shook his head. They had to stop. It was all getting too real. Scott didn’t have long to ponder his position as father-in-law slid into position on his knees behind him. Chris pinched one of his cheeks and Scott whined wriggling his ass to get free. 

Chris soothed the ache with his hand while smacking the head of his cock against his son-in-law’s ass and watching it jiggle. “Your gonna take every fucking inch, punk,” Chris promised. “You’re gonna b a good little faggot for Daddy.”

Slowly as not to spook the kid, Chris pressed the head of his cock into his son-in-law’s quivering hole. The loosened rim took him easily. Scott moaned at the initial intrusion, sighing and panting as he got stuffed with his father-in-law’s cock. And just like that he didn’t feel empty anymore.

And just like that all his doubts and recriminations dried up as he took Chris’ cock like a champ. Scott shuddered as Chris traced his fingertips up and down his sides to help him relax and take the sizable intruder. Chris took his time until his hips finally met the soft curve of his son-in-law’s ass. He bent over his young lover and pulled him up to his chest, his lips at the kid’s ear. “You were made for this, son,” he said, quiet and gentle. “Your ass was made to be fucked, boy.”

Chris rolled his hips experimentally to give Scott one last chance to adjust, then he set to it. He fucked Scott hard and rough, chuckling as his son-in-law bit the couch in order to stifle his whorish moaning. Poor kid squealed every time he hit the boy’s prostate, leaving Scott all hot and tingly. Chris sucked at the back of Scott’s neck, nipping the skin there as he muttered filth into the boy’s sweat damp skin. “You’re such a good faggot, Scott. Born for this. Born to take a real man’s cock up your tight little shit hole. Lucky for you, faggot, I like boy-cunts. Like to wreck’em. Leave’em full of jizz. Leaking everywhere. With every fucking step. Gonna make you go out there. Send you back to my daughter with my load up your ass. Her dirty faggot husband and his busted punk ass dripping in her father’s come.”

Scott lost it. He blasted his load onto his father-in-law’s couch, clenching his ass around Chris’ cock as he chewed the armrest. Chris plowed into him double time, hasty to leave his load inside his dickmatized son-in-law. With a couple grunts and a last few snaps of his hips, Chris came exactly as he had planned to. This boy was his. Completely and totally his.


	8. In The Still Of The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Scott are stuck in Beacon Hills for the summer and the nights are getting hot, hot, hot!

Hours after sunset the night was still thick with heat. No breeze billowed the curtains. In fact, they didn’t even so much as flutter. The air in Scott’s bedroom was practically motionless. It reeked of sweat, it reeked of  _ them _ : years of Scott’s boyhood emissions, the sex they had had before bed, Derek’s cologne, and of course their body odors as they suffered the stifling humidity. 

Unable to abide the stuffiness, Derek tossed off the thin sheet and tried to wipe away the beads of sweat on his brow. The sheet tumbled to the floor on top of the discarded pajama bottoms he usually wore to bed right next to Scott’s matching pair. Scott rolled over, naked and now uncovered, shuffling closer to his boyfriend despite the body heat and musk and slick sweat. 

Derek grumbled, but nevertheless he pulled Scott’s arm over him, holding it to his chest just over his heart. Scott kissed his shoulder, smiling into his skin as he buried his nose in the nape of Derek’s neck. Derek hummed, practically purring as his boyfriend scented him despite the fact that smooshed together in his bed they were generating more body heat, more sweat. 

“This is hell,” Derek complained. Scott snorted in agreement. To Derek’s dismay Summer in Beacon Hills was turning out to be less different than summer in South America. He might as well have not even left. Why did this town hate him? Derek startled, shaken out of his thoughts by the very not-small thing poking him in the back. 

Closing his eyes, Derek focused on his boyfriend’s scent through the musty stink. He remembered what it was like as an Alpha. The urges that erupted from deep within and pounded in your blood until nothing existed but that terrible beating. Even Scott who had always been remarkable at self-control needed to let off steam sometimes. 

Besides what else were they going to do all night? They sure as hell couldn’t sleep! Derek eased his hips back, brushing his ass along Scott’s erection. Scott moaned, his breath warm against Derek’s damp neck. “Der?”

Derek nodded. “I’m still...” Derek blushed. He bit his lip and rolled his hips in a small circle. “I’m good to go. If you want…?”

“Yeah?” Scott asked again, panting into Derek’s shoulder. He began licking at the sour sweat gathered in the creases near his arm. 

Whimpering as his cock quickly hardened, Derek raised his arm up and let Scott after what he wanted. “ _ Alpha _ ,” he murmured, as Scott hungrily lapped at his sweaty pit. Scott raised his eyes to him, flashing that stunning red color. Derek whined softly in his throat, his own eyes turning blue as they fluttered shut. Scott nipped at the sensitive skin of his underarm and Derek moaned.

The immobile air around them began to reek again of arousal. 

“Taste so good,” Scott mumbled while he continued swiping his tongue into Derek’s rank pit hairs. “Taste like mine.”

“In me,” Derek blurted out. He groaned at his own admission, burying his face in the sweat soaked pillow they shared. “Want you in me.”

Scott growled. The pillow was yanked away and thrown overboard. Derek gasped. Scott’s hand wriggled under him and Derek lifted his hip off the bed to let Scott through. His Alpha’s claws lightly pierced his hip and his chest. Derek mewled, choking on his spit, his cock throbbing so hard he was afraid he might burst.

Retracting his claws, Scott pulled his hand away from Derek’s sweaty chest and instead grabbed both of his sweat-slick hips as tightly as he could with normal, human hands. Derek lowered his arm to stroke his cock and relieve some of the pressure in his balls. Scott flicked his tongue along the line of Derek’s throat as he rocked his erection up and down between Derek’s thick cheeks. Derek panted, bending his knee upwards so Scott could have easy access. 

“You’re going to stay right there for me,” Scott rumbled, using that tone of voice that always made Derek tingle from head to toe. 

Derek shivered. “ _ Yes _ ,” he sighed, the hand on his cock stilling. “Yes, Alpha.”

They had waited long enough. Scott was an adult now as well as an alpha. If Scott wanted to use him, then he could. He deserved it. Derek would give his soft, ass loving man anything. He wanted so badly. Derek reached down and lifted his meaty, sweaty ass cheek basically holding himself open for the only alpha he cared about. He bit his lip and gave a gentle push. Some of the come Scott had left in him not two hours ago trickled out. 

Scott panted loudly through his nose, slipping his cock towards Derek’s furry, wet hole that was still puffy from last time. “Mine,” Scott purred, nipping at the back of Derek’s neck. 

Derek whined like a slutty sorority girl in a bad porno at the feel of fangs dragging along his throat and then groaned when Scott’s hot breath disappeared. The shorter man held Derek out in front of him, angling his back away so he could have as much room as the bed allowed to thrust. With slippery fingers Scott guided Derek onto his cock and shoved inside that warm, wet heat. 

His own claws threatened to pop out, but Derek held them in check grasping at his ass cheek as Scott quickly began to pump into him. He held himself open for Scott and gasped weakly at his Alpha’s impeccable aim. Derek could feel his slit leaking pre-come onto the bed. Come, sweat, and matted hairs. Scott’s sheets would have to be washed tomorrow. 

Keeping his thrusts as economical as possible, Scott fucked Derek as hard as he could manage since they were both on their sides. The bedframe creaked as he rocked into his boyfriend and beads of sweat trickled down the sides of his face. If they didn’t fall asleep after this, they were taking a nice, cold bath. Together. Sleep be damned!

Holding back a roar, Scott grunted as he shot another load into the guy responsible for his bisexual awakening. Derek moaned in sharp little bursts as he jerked himself off right after. He didn’t bother trying to catch his come. The bedsheet was ruined anyway. He came with a bitten back shout. Melissa was just down the hall. 

Scott smoothly slid over to him, his chest to Derek’s back. His hands skimmed over his boyfriend’s ticklish belly. Derek huffed, curling inward away from those sneaky hands, shooting another thick glob of come onto the bed sheets thanks to Scott’s maneuver. Derek panted, his hand slowing on his cock as Scott’s hands wandered over his heaving, sweaty chest and back down again. 

Batting Derek’s hand away, Scott lightly stroked his boyfriend’s cock, gathering the last dribbles of come onto his fingers. He brought them up to Derek’s face and the beta immediately sucked them into his mouth. Scott moaned, at the gentle suction, his cock twitching with interest, still buried inside his boyfriend. “More,” Derek pleaded.

“I’ll get you more,” Scott promised, jerking his hand away from Derek’s talented mouth. He shoved Derek’s back and rolled him over, his cock slipping out despite being hard again. Derek gasped and smirked feeling his Alpha settle on top of him. His cock ached, pressed at an angle into the mattress. He didn’t dare move. 

Scott kissed his way down Derek’s sweat slick body and gave a couple nips to the small of Derek’s back where it met his beautiful ass. Derek whined, writhing and blushing red when he realized what Scott intended to do. He arched his back as best he could and moaned as he felt Scott pry his cheeks apart and flick his tongue around his loose pucker in search of come.

They shared sloppy kisses all night, chasing the tastes of each other in the stinky, humid night air. 


	9. A Normal Night At Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Peter are pretty kinky for a married couple.

Already as wet as Peter was hard, Stiles straddled her husband’s face. She braced herself on the edge of their headboard as Peter immediately began helping himself to her cunt. “Wanna breed me so bad, don’t you, Daddy,” she sighed, a teasing smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “You can taste it can’t you? How fertile I am.”

Stiles rolled her hips, grinding down on her husband’s tongue as it swept deep into her wet center. She moaned as his nose pressed against her clit and her engorged lips dragged along the stubble on his chin. Reaching down, she grabbed a handful of Peter’s hair and held him down into their bed so she could ride his devious mouth and stupidly handsome face the way she wanted. For once, Peter didn’t fight her. He just kept driving his tongue into her in all the ways he knew she liked. 

“I’m so ripe, Daddy,” Stiles panted, rocking her clit into his husband’s nose. “Ripe for your knot. You gonna breed me, Daddy? You gonna fill me up with your seed?”

Peter growled against her pussy and Stiles gasped, quivering through her surprise orgasm. She lost her coordination, her hips spasming as she came, but Peter, evil bastard that he is, didn’t stop his ministrations. He continued to lick into her cunt even as her toes curled with the waves of her first climax of the night. 

Flushed and smiling, Stiles sat back on her heels. Not one to be deterred, Peter followed after her, flicking his tongue along her inner lips, catching the swollen folds between his lips and gently suckling them. Stiles giggled, a tremble in her limbs and carded her fingers lazily through her husband’s fine head of hair. “Should I let you, Daddy?” Stiles gazed down at her determined husband. “Should I let you knot me and breed me up?”

Her husband’s eyes flashed electric blue and Stiles wheezed through her nose. He looked cunt drunk, the way he always did when they played on nights she was ovulating. He lapped at her labia, more slowly now, carefully brushing the flat edges of his fangs along her outer lips. Stiles shivered. 

With the flat of her palm, she shoved Peter’s head back down into the bed. “I know what you want, Daddy,” she declared. She groped behind her for the erection she knew he still had. Nothing short of a lightning strike from on high would be enough to make him go soft tonight. Not with her cycle in full swing and his nose not a foot away from her cunt. 

She couldn’t quite reach, so she had to let him go and lean back further. As she grabbed his shaft, Peter dove for her pussy, unable to do more than flick the tip of his tongue around the edges of her folds. It was still enough to make Stiles groan. She bit her lip as she pumped her husband’s throbbing cock. “You’ve been such a good boy for me, Daddy,” she murmured. “Haven’t got to come a drop for three whole months.”

While she spoke, pre-come gushed from his slit. Stiles used the sticky mess as lube and stroked him faster. “Bet you wanna come so badly don’t you, Daddy?”

“ _ Mistress _ ,” Peter rumbled, too far gone for his usual stalling. He arched into her hand and Stiles laughed, nearly getting bucked off of her eager husband. 

“Down boy,” she quipped, smacking Peter’s cock like a cat bats at a tassel. Peter huffed and panted, but stilled under her, his fists clenching. His chest rose and fell in hasty breaths, his arms itching to snap the chains around his wrists and grab his wife and hold her down and breed her up just like she said. Despite his urges, he settled down for her on command. 

Whatever cruel trick she played on him would be worth it in the end because in the end he knew he would win. She was carrying his pups sooner or later. The only question was when. And until that day, the dance between the two of them was just so damn fun! 

Reaching further back, Stiles patted her husband’s impressive balls, tapping the full orbs and enjoying the way her husband tensed under her. “Good boy, Daddy,” she praised, rolling his balls between her long fingers. She gripped them and tugged, squeezing them like they were her own personal stress ball. Peter gasped, his cock bobbing in the air noticeably. 

Stiles draped his low-hanging nuts onto his thigh and smacked them. Peter flinched, moaning for her, his eyes glazed with lust. Stiles idly rubbed at her clit while simultaneously dragging the tips of her fingers up and down her husband’s hard cock. “Do you want to come, Daddy?”

“Yes,” Peter gruffly replied. He sharply inhaled as Stiles wrapped her hand loosely around his cock and began to tug at him at a maddening pace. “Mistress...” 

“What’s your record, Daddy,” Stiles posed to her husband while stroking him. “For chastity?”

“T--three months,” he stuttered. 

“Hmm.” Stiles pursed her lips like she was actually considering something. Dipping her fingers into his cunt, she coated them in her wetness and held them up for her husband. He quickly sucked her fingers into his mouth, cleaning them of every drop. Stiles’ grin broadened into something mischievous. Peter groaned, eyes fluttering shut after taking one look at her smiling down on him. 

She took away her fingers and gave him a choice. “You can either go straight back into chastity tonight, Daddy and get to knot my pussy after another month in your cage. Or...”

“Or?” Peter echoed.

“Or you can come tonight,” She said with a smug tilt of her face. “And go back into chastity for three months. At the end of which I’ll let you take off work on my peak days and spend them knotting me all you want.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Catch? There’s no catch,” Stiles lied, sweet as a schoolgirl. She let her hand slide up to the head of his rapidly slickening cock and brought her other hand to his chin, thumbing at his only slightly puffy lips. “You get to come tonight. Honest.”

“But?”

“ _ After _ ,” she corrected. “After you make me squirt all over that pretty face of yours.”

“Then I get to knot you?”

Stiles snorted. “No. But I’ll let you come. So which is it, Daddy?”

“Three more months,” Peter answered, not needing a single moment to consider.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Stiles accepted. Dropping his cock, she leaned over and kissed him sloppily lapping at his lips. She rolled her hips, coating her husband’s shaft with her own wetness. Peter moaned, his shift trying to fight to the surface. “No one can make me squirt like you can, Daddy,” she gushed, dancing her tongue over her husband’s semi-elongated fangs.

Peter growled, gnashing his teeth at his wife as she sat up and pulled her cunt away from his cock. Stiles chuckled as she sat on his face again, using both hands to hold him down, resting her weight on his furrowed forehead. She didn’t have to tell him to get started, he took the initiative all his own. Stiles laughed, drumming her feet into the mattress in excitement as Peter got to work on her. “You drive a hard bargain, councilor,” she joked, putting on her best court impression. “A very hard bargain.”

Maybe her foot slipped, maybe not, but either way it landed against her husband’s erection with more force than could be accidental. Again and again, until he came all over himself and the bed and her foot. He shot his load before she squirted, but she didn’t mind...that just meant more leverage for later. 


	10. The Hunter, The Princess, And The Big, Bad Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Peter are married and determined to have a child with Derek as their willing surrogate.

Sans towel and still damp from his shower, Chris padded into his bedroom to find Peter already perfectly at home slotted between his nephew’s spread legs. Chris snorted faintly under his breath and paused watching his husband eagerly and aggressively attack the younger man’s parted lips and bared throat. Derek gasped and mewled under the onslaught he had brought upon himself. He knew full well what would happen when he chose to parade around in one of Peter’s maroon vee necks. Chris shook his head, a tiny smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as Peter rucked up the said vee neck and began leaving kisses and bites to his nephew’s well developed chest while forcefully humping him.

Chris glanced down at his feet and discovered Derek’s sleeping pants in a heap on the hardwood floor where they had obviously landed after being hastily discarded. Derek thrashed on the bed, his low groans shifting sharply into high, pathetic whines, drawing Chris’ attention again. He ogled the pair as Derek writhed under his husband, clutching at the bedspread as Peter latched onto one of his sensitive nipples with vicious intent. Chris smirked, his cock twitching, and picked up the carelessly discarded pajama bottoms from off the floor. He held the soft cotton up to his nose.

Even though he was just a human, he could tell in an instant that these were absolutely Derek’s pajamas. He wore them every night and they smelled like it. Another broken moan brought Chris’ eyes back to the bed and the werewolves mating in it. Derek met his gaze with half lidded eyes glazed over with lust, his cheeks a deep red and his parted lips swollen from Peter’s ministrations. He looked wrecked already and they had barely begun. With his smirk firmly in place Chris lowered the pajama bottoms and slipped his legs inside, his eyes never leaving Derek’s as he snapped the elastic waistband into place on his hips. 

“ _ Chris _ ,” Derek whimpered, his voice ragged. He scrunched his eyes shut and arched into his uncle’s thrusts, wrapping his legs around Peter’s hips as he writhed under him. Chris walked over to his bed. Werewolves and their scent marking never ceased to amuse him. He sat down beside the copulating pair and reclined against the headboard, slightly elevated above them so he could see everything. Derek clumsily pawed at him, his arm wrenched backwards in an attempt to grope him and drag him into their lurid display. Chris teased him, allowing his hand to bump and brush against his clothed crotch, but the angle was wrong and Derek couldn’t get ahold of him. Derek growled in frustration, his focus briefly cracked by Peter nursing on his left nipple with much more force than necessary. 

With Derek thus distracted, Chris grabbed his hand and brought it to his face. He smiled down at the adorably confused young man then flicked his tongue in slow figure eights around Derek’s pulse point in his wrist. Derek moaned, shivering. Peter growled, his eyes noticeably flashing brighter. No doubt responding to the spike in Derek’s arousal. “He’s going to breed you,” Chris murmured into Derek’s skin, not needing to raise his voice to be heard by both wolves. Derek choked on his own spit, sputtering. 

Chris lapped at Derek’s wrist, growing hard feeling the young man’s heartbeat pounding against his tongue. “As soon as I give the word,” he added. 

“ _ Chris _ ,” the wolves grunted, nearly in unison. Derek’s voice was full of need and embarrassment while Peter’s held nothing but pent-up want and frustration. Chris snorted, continuing to flit the tip of his tongue around Derek’s pulse point while simultaneously reaching down and pinching the younger man’s peaked nipple. Derek wailed, biting his lip as he both curled away from Chris’ grip and bucked into it. Peter muffled him with a sloppy kiss pining his nephew to the bed with his body.

“He’s going to make you nurse his pups,” Chris warned, plucking at Derek’s already abused nipple. Derek flailed, his hands clenching into fists as his claws sharpened. Chris pulled Derek’s hand away from his face while Peter restrained the other with his own clawed hand. Chris tweaked and twisted the nub relentlessly. “With these big, milky tits. Our little princess, all round and soft.”

Derek sagged into the mattress, his fists going lax. He sighed into his uncle’s demanding mouth, the fight going out of him in one breath. His cock laid flat against his abdomen, hard and leaking pre-come all over his chiseled abs and those of his uncle while his hole throbbed, dribbling wetness onto the bedspread underneath him. Peter growled and snarled at the heavy smell of him, his hips unceasingly ramming into his supine nephew. In the heat of the moment he didn’t care one bit that his thousand dollar Dior briefs were being soiled by his nephew’s wetness and his own arousal. 

Meanwhile, Chris again licked at Derek’s pulse point before bowing his head and sucking a mark there. Derek whined high and meek too overwhelmed to think. “Are you ready, princess?” Chris asked while scratching his chin atop the mark he had made on Derek’s wrist. Derek shuddered and gasped, his uncle biting at his neck practically chomping at the bit. “Are you ready to take our big, bad wolf’s knot?”

“Please,” Derek begged, his throaty voice barely above a whisper.

“What was that princess?” Chris put Derek’s hand down, resting his knee on top of it and instead focused on teasing the blushing young man’s nipples. He smacked Derek’s right pectoral right on his aching nipple and then pinched the nub between his thumb and forefinger as Derek squirmed. “Use your words, princess.”

“Please, I want--” Derek stuttered, a blush creeping down his face to his chest. 

Chris didn’t let up. He continued to pull at Derek’s tit and squeeze it harshly between his jagged fingernails. “What do you want, princess?”

Derek hissed. “I want---I want the--big, bad wolf---to---,” Derek whined, baring his throat as Peter bit at the warm expanse. “To breed my pussy,” he gushed all in one breath.

“Good girl,” Chris praised, releasing Derek’s abused nipple. Derek sighed, his eyebrows shooting high as Peter continued to claim him. Chris soothed the sting by rubbing his calloused palm into Derek’s peaked nub. “Such a good girl for us.”

Without warning, he twined his fingers into Peter’s sweaty, grown out locks and wrenched the man back by the hair. “Peter,” Chris said, sternly, ignoring the way his husband snarled at him with his fangs out. “Naked, Peter.  _ Now _ .”

Reluctantly, Peter untangled himself from Derek and Chris let him go. Sitting back on his knees so he could get his ruined underwear off, he pulled the waistband down and his hard cock sprang free. Peter pushed the soggy material down his thighs and then grabbed Derek’s ankle ready to mount the boy that instant. “All the way,” Chris insisted. Peter growled at him, eyes flashing, but Chris held his ground and arched his eyebrow waiting. He was always the more patient of the two. 

Peter complied. He dropped Derek’s leg and stood up in the middle of the bed, lording his erection and vanity above the two other men. His underwear dropped of its own accord to his feet and he stepped out of them, throwing them pointedly towards Chris’s face. They missed the mark, but landed on his husband’s bulge regardless. Peter smirked, smacking his cock as he sank back down onto his knees. 

Unimpressed, Chris picked up his husband’s damp underwear and stuffed them into his borrowed sweatpants. He rubbed their combined scents into his erection and both Hales groaned their eyes flashing boldly. Peter nabbed Derek’s ankles and hoisted them in the air, his erection at perfect level to breach his nephew. “Taste her pussy first,” Chris instructed, foiling his husband’s plan.

This time, Peter didn’t bother to argue. He simply shoved Derek’s knees down into his chest forcing the younger man’s hairy, wet hole up into the air. Peter held his husband’s gaze as he swiped his tongue into the mess of Derek’s ass, his fangs pressing into Derek’s supple cheeks as Peter hungrily ate his nephew’s wetness. Derek moaned, loudly. 

On instinct Chris jerked the soiled underwear out of his crotch and shoved them into Derek’s mouth. “Hush now, princess,” Chris murmured. “The men are talking.”

Peter yipped as a fresh wave of slick seeped out of his nephew onto his wandering tongue. Chris petted Derek’s heaving abdomen, idly stroking the hard length of the young man’s cock with the tips of his fingers. “Does she taste good, pup? Is she fertile and ripe for breeding?”

His husband stared at him blankly with lust-drunk eyes, his face dripping with Derek’s wetness. He didn’t have to make a sound for Chris to know that the answer was yes. Months of preparation and careful study never went to waste. Chris nodded. “Then what are you waiting for, pup? Mount our bitch.”

Never one to delay gratification Peter grinned around his fangs and jumped up onto his feet. He threw himself into his nephew, hurriedly impaling him on his thick cock in a rush now that the moment was finally here. Derek lowed behind his gag, his eyes rolling back as he was indeed mounted by his desperate uncle. Chris tugged lightly at the young man’s erection, unwilling to let it wilt. Derek moaned. 

“Good girl,” Chris whispered, his other hand sneaking under the elastic waistband of Derek’s sleep pants. He stroked his erection in time to his husband’s savage thrusts. “So wet for us...just like a needy bitch should be.”

For awhile, Chris just watched as his husband matted his nephew again now that Derek’s womb was fully developed. Until all of this started, he had never fully realized how amazing werewolves could be despite being married to one. Especially one as proudly lupine as Peter. 

Before his husband’s knot could swell, Chris grabbed him by the throat and licked his mouth open. Peter moaned, letting the man’s tongue slide across his own and steal a taste of Derek. Chris groaned. Even to his blunted senses he could taste the thick, surprisingly spicy hit that Derek now gave off when aroused. “Pull out,” Chris demanded, huskily, squeezing his husband’s throat. “Don’t knot her cunt yet.”

A choked growl escaped Peter’s puffy lips, but after a few more thrusts he did as he was told and pulled out of his nephew. Derek whined behind his improvised gag. Chris pushed Peter back by the neck until he was a good couple feet away from his fertile nephew. He stroked his husband’s throbbing cock as a reward for his good behavior. Peter hardly noticed, all his attention focused on Derek’s wet and winking rosebud, his nephew not budging an inch as he waited to be mounted again. 

“Derek,” Chris intoned. Derek whimpered, holding himself open, wordlessly begging to be full. Peter snapped his fangs, determined, but Chris held him back. 

“Move to the edge of the bed, princess, and take out your gag” Chris ordered, jerking his head to the side he wanted Derek to move to. Still a bit lost in hormones, Derek merely stared at him. Chris smirked and explained, “You’re going to choke on Daddy’s cock while you take your uncle’s knot like a good, little bitch.”

Derek lowered his feet to the bed and dragged himself to the side so that his head hung over the edge. Once he got into position he popped his uncle’s underwear out of his mouth and raised his legs in the air on his own. “Look at that cunt,” Chris muttered in his husband’s ear. “So wet and loose. Just aching for a knot to stuff her full.”

“Chris,” Peter gurgled, eagerly eyeing his nephew’s bared hole.

“Are you going to knot her?” Chris teased, tickling the thick base of his husband’s cock where the knot was going to form. Peter shivered and nodded. “Are you going to breed our little princess?”

“Yes!”

“I’ll let you,” Chris promised. He gently twisted his husband’s peaked nipples while he continued loosely fondling the base of his cock. Peter shuddered arching into his husband’s touch just as eagerly as Derek had. The Hales and their tits. 

“But you don’t stop until it takes,” Chris warned. “You are going to knot her sloppy cunt raw. Make her take your knot until there’s nothing left in your balls. Until you give her every drop and make her carry your pups. Understood?”

Again, Peter nodded practically vibrating with his hunger. “We don’t stop until it’s done,” Chris declared, looking over at Derek once more, reminding them both of the terms they had set.

“Please,” Derek begged.

“Mount her,” Chris said and off Peter went. 

Off they all went until well past dawn.


	11. Come For Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is bored at the office until he gets a suggestive text from his lovely girlfriend.

Peter placed his phone so that the camera would be at an angle. High enough to show his face and low enough to show his cock, but not so expansive as to give away his location. Stiles would know though. She’d ridden his cock in this very chair and in this very office many a time. He squeezed his cock through his thin slacks and hit record on his phone. 

“Hello, Princess,” he drawled. He fingered the contours of his shaft, teasing the length while showing off his girth. He cupped his cock. “See what you do to me?”

Smirking, Peter unzipped his slacks and gracefully pulled his dick out through the flap. He shook the base. “You see this, baby girl?” he asked, his voice low and demanding. He did a half turn in his office chair so his dick would pull focus. He let his erection throb for the camera and his one-woman audience. “You did this to me.”

Peter lightly stroked his shaft then tiptoed back to his former position, toying with his erection as he waited for the shot to come back into focus. “You’re such a dirty slut,” he sneered. He tightened his grip. “Always so wet for me. Making me so hard.”

He gave his cock a few sharp tugs and then let it go, tapping each finger individually down his length so she could see just how aroused he was thinking of her. “All you, princess,” he assured her.

Grabbing the base again, Peter spat onto his dick with the precision born out of a lifetime of being a perfectionist. He smeared his spit into the thick tip of his cock, mixing it with his pre-come. He showed her his slit, showed her how much he was leaking just thinking of her. 

“Why do you do this to me, baby girl?” He gripped his cock again and slowly stroked the length from root to tip. “Why do you got to leave me so fucking hard?”

Peter pressed his smirking lips into a hard line as he picked up the pace. “Slut,” he roughly murmured. “You want it so bad, don’t you, princess? Want Daddy’s big cock in your dirty little pussy. Don’t you?”

He added more spit, then resumed stroking his dick. Harder and faster. “Tell me how much you want it, princess,” he demanded. “Tell Daddy how badly you want his big cock.” 

Slouching into his chair, Peter smiled, enjoying himself. “Dirty slut,” he said with a grin. “You’re just a dirty little slut, aren’t you? So desperate for cock. My cock. You’d be riding me right now if you were here. Like a good little whore.”

Peter brought both hands to his shaft and began tugging and twisting his length. “Dirty cunt,” he grumbled. His body tensed and he sighed. Come erupted over his knuckles, gushing over the backs of his hands. He kept pulling, intent on milking his orgasm. He moaned softly, head tilted back, eyes fluttering. She liked watching him come. He made sure to capture the moment as best he could. Mess or no.

He shot three or four more times and then slumped into his seat with a practiced, careless grace. He should’ve been a pornstar. He was a natural in front of the camera. Too bad his son had beaten him to that particular punch. 

Peter lifted his come drenched hands to his lips and began slurping up his jizz. He bounced his cock once or twice just to remind her it was there as he ate his mess. His dick gradually softened and his tolerance for his own taste abated. He used some tissues to wipe off what was left, including the few drops he had gotten on his slacks. Oh well...worth it, in the end.

The next time Stiles saw him she would jump him and climb him like a tree. A horny kitty in need of a cock to fill her up. Peter tossed away the tissues and winked at the camera before reaching forward and pressing stop. 

The recording ended.


	12. Oh No!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott gets caught canoodling with Allison and pays the price, never knowing the bliss that awaited such a punishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble was inspired by another AO3 fic entitled: 'Whisper Sex In My Ear' by happyevraftr. I wrote this a zillion years ago after reading their fic presumably and never did anything with it until now. I did some editing, turning it into a drabble and now here ya go. Enjoy!

Scott hurried out of the house, head down, cheeks burning, and his hands held modestly in front of his crotch. The Argent’s front door slammed shut. Scott, his ass stinging and his traitorous boner pressing against the seam of his jeans, hightailed it to the side of the house where he had hidden his bike in a limping rush. 

Once in the deep shadows, Scott bit his lip and glanced all around. A new flush burned in his cheeks as he hastily unbuttoned his jeans and shoved his hand into his boxers. He whined softly in embarrassment gripping his unwanted erection. 

Bad enough being caught with Allison again by her father, but then…

The confusion as his jeans and underwear were pulled down by the wrong Argent. The sudden change in altitude being bent over her father’s knee. The shock of pain as that first blow landed on his ass. Then over and over and over…

The humiliation. The hurt. The hormones!

Unable to stop, Scott reached back and gently touched his own ass, still warm and throbbing from Mr. Argent’s calloused hand. The touch was enough to set him off. He blasted his load into his boxers in record time. Scott whimpered as he came, the ache still palpable, the moments of horror from the last half hour still replaying in his mind. His toes curled in his sneakers as he creamed his boxers.

Without a moment to think, Scott did up his pants wiping his messy hand onto his pant’s leg and grabbed his bike. Sore and now sticky, he ran down the street bike at his side until he made it to the street corner, then biting the bullet he swung his leg over and took off, careful to keep his tender ass up off the seat. 


	13. We Wander In Dreams And Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott is sleepwalking at least he thinks he is and having very vivid dream to go with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by a scene from Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula in which a character sleepwalks and then fucks a wolfed out Dracula.

The night air was cool, but sticky. Thunderstorms had raged all afternoon and into the night. More were expected. Sweat and humidity clung to his skin as Scott followed the wolf monster into the Preserve. 

Barefoot, he plodded through wet grass and mud, dead leaves clutching to the legs of his pajama bottoms. The wolf monster led him deep into the woods, turning back every few steps to make sure he was following. Those red eyes…Scott blinked, but those red, impossible eyes were still there, still drawing him further in.

A part of his mind just knew he was sleeping, dreaming all of this, but everything felt so real. The humid air, and the rain fed grass, and the cold earth under his feet. And the wolf monster guiding him on, somewhere new. Too vivid to be merely a dream, yet too outrageous to be actually happening. Right?

It was midnight, the moon high in the sky. But even under the cover of the trees, Scott could see every branch and root. He could hear the animals in the undergrowth going quiet as they passed. He could hear the wolf monster’s heartbeat, the ragged breathing like he had gone on a long run or was working harder than he seemed to be. Down on all fours. Lumbering through the woods. Furry and bestial. Yet focused and purposeful. The wolf monster, bigger than any normal wolf could be, ushering him further into the Preserve than he had ever been. 

He knew he should be afraid. Afraid of a number of things: being out in the night alone and without his phone, being lost in the woods, being so close to a wild, monstrous beast. But his heartbeat was steady and slow. His body following the pull of the wolf monster like a fish on a hook. It all felt so real, but also not. As if any minute he would snap awake to find himself safe in bed and at home. 

But he didn’t wake up. Couldn’t. The wolf monster commanded him on. Not in words or sounds, but something else. Like instinct, like magnetism. 

The ground smoothed out. They entered a clearing. The wolf monster gazed up at the full moon and let loose a soft howl. Scott shivered, his stomach clenching in anticipation. Something was about to begin. He looked up at the moon too, his feet finding their way without his eyes. 

The moon seemed so huge. Bigger than usual, more present like he was seeing it, really seeing it for the first time. He could feel it! In his blood. Singing him along his way, not quite a lullaby, but mesmerising nonetheless. As he walked a subtle thrumming pricked at his feet in waves, in pulses. Suddenly, in front of him was a wall of ivy and an archway. The wolf monster entered. Scott followed. 

The ivy walls were made in corridors like a maze. The wolf monster directed their path apparently from memory not stopping a single moment to decide where to go or to sniff the air. The thrumming underfoot intensified. Each step into the maze, each correctly chosen corridor brought them closer to something alive. Scott tingled from the tips of his toes to the crown of his head until his body was intune to the pulsation. The pull was so strong he felt sure he could find his way to the center even without the wolf monster. 

On they went, boy following beast, until they came to the last corner and ultimately the doorway. Another arch opened up to a central space dominated by an enormous tree stump. The tree it had once belonged too must have been massive in its day. The stump throbbed like a heart, the source of the pull. The top of the stump had been smoothed over almost like a table or an altar. Or a bed.

Scott blushed though he didn’t understand why. 

The wolf monster stopped just beside the stump. He let loose a reverberating roar up towards the moon and the maze and the stump. Scott moaned, feeling the power of the wolf monster flow from into him just from his voice. He kept walking until he stood beside the monster that had lured him here. 

Those red eyes fixed him in place, at once animalistic but so human. 

Abruptly, the wolf monster reared up onto its hind legs, standing nearly upright almost like a man. He growled at him, baring his fangs. Not so much a threat, but as a reminder. Scott bit his lip, hand clutching his side where he had been bit. And he had been bit. He remembered that moment now, clearly. The wolf monster did it. 

He should have been angry. Scott felt hot all over, but it wasn’t anger. A breeze rippled through the ivy and Scott shuddered, his dick surging to hardness. The wolf monster huffed through its nose, as if approving, and gestured towards the stump with its clawed hand. Was it a hand?

Scott didn’t have a moment to consider. The question dissolved almost as quickly as it had appeared. He turned to face the stump and walked towards it, stepping out of his pajama bottoms as he went. Though he couldn’t say why. 

The wood was surprisingly warm under his feet. The thrumming was smooth and constant like the flow of a river. He turned as the wolf monster joined him on the beating stump. Their eyes met and Scott dropped his gaze immediately, settling then on the wolf monster’s intimidating, unsheathed erection.

A spark ran through him. 

He understood now and his heart pounded in excitement…

When next he was aware of anything it was fur. Warm, soft fur dragging against his bare skin. Over and over. Dark fur that tickled his thighs and his belly. He was warm. Too warm. Inside and out. Front and back. The tree stump under him and his wolf monster over him. He couldn’t escape it. But he didn’t want to. Scott clutched his wolf monster’s fur, pulling him the beast further on top of him. He wrapped his legs around the wolf monster’s hips and held on tightly. 

His wolf monster was inside him. Deep inside him. Filling him up in a way he had never felt before. Scott nuzzled his wolf monster’s chest, breathing in the scent of forest and ash and sex. Animal musk and clear moonlit skies and thirst. 

Scott moaned, his hard, leaking cock being constantly tickled by his wolf monster’s furry belly. He shook and trembled underneath the bulk of the beast. He buried his face in his monster’s chest and nipped hungrily at his skin. The wolf monster growled, prodding him on. Scott shivered, digging his teeth into his wolf monster’s skin as deeply as he could. He wanted. He needed to taste him. He broke skin.

A drop of blood, hot and powerful, exploded onto his tongue and Scott howled as he erupted into his wolf monster’s fur. He dug his claws into his wolf monster’s back, desperate to hang on, stay close as his body quaked and writhed on its own. His hole clenched around his wolf monster’s shaft and something bulbous pressed against his rim. Scott whimpered as the thicker base was shoved into him. He kept coming, shooting his seed onto his wolf monster’s fur in heavy, nearly endless stripes. 

Heat flooded his body. 

His wolf monster howled in completion. 

His body was being filled now in a different way.

They would smell of each other now. Beast and boy. 

Overheated, Scott shivered. His eyes fluttered shut though he didn’t feel the least bit tired. Instead, a surge of energy like an electric current thundered through his entire body. Again and again. 

Then it all went dark.

The next morning, Scott woke up in bed face down, his pillow plumping up without his weight on top of it. He whipped his head around, eyes half closed trying to make sense of his dream. The woods, a maze, a monster, a dead tree…

Weird.

He moved slowly. He was sore. From lacrosse practice he told himself. Forgetting in the moment that they hadn’t had any practice yesterday on account of thunderstorms. 

He stood up on shaky legs, naked. He stumbled to his bathroom and looked in his mirror. No bruises, no scratches, no bites, no nothing. Nothing, but a warmth. A memory of heat. An empty feeling. And red, red eyes.


	14. The Halloween Afterparty With The Sheriff And An Alpha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott surprises the Sheriff right after Halloween.

In the early morning quiet just before dawn, Noah dropped heavily into his office chair having already changed back into his civvies. He rubbed his eyes. Halloween. Another all-nighter. He sighed, clenching then stretching out his toes in anticipation of the soreness that would hit later. He glanced at the paperwork waiting for him on his desk and leaned back into the headrest. He rubbed his eyes again with both hands and took a breath.

A faint tap, tap on his door made Noah snap upright. He shook his head. Had he drifted off? He checked his watch. His deputies were already clocked out. They hadn’t made any arrests over the course of the night, so no one needed to bail or complain or yell at him. Maybe he had misheard. “Come in,” he said, asking more really than saying.

His door opened a crack and a head poked through, masked and wearing a hat. “Trick or treat,” his visitor declared, his face slowly slipping into a bright smile. Noah recognized that smile in an instant. He grinned and shook his head waving Scott into his office. 

Scott opened the door the rest of the way and walked into the Sheriff’s office still dressed in his discount Zorro costume. He had a hand behind his back, Noah noticed immediately but gave Scott the benefit of the doubt. If it had been Stiles at his door right now he probably would be standing and reaching for the extra cuffs he stored in his desk because his son liked his little tricks. Especially on Halloween. His heart twinged with his son so far away. Odd the things you could miss.

Closing the door behind him, Scott crossed the somewhat small office and stood before the Sheriff still grinning like a naughty goof. Noah sat back in his chair and waited for the reveal. “Thought you might need a break,” Scott explained. From behind his back he brought out a bag of takeout. “A little holiday treat on me.”

Noah accepted the generous bounty with a smile and a soft thanks. Untying the plastic bag, he opened the styrofoam container and found a veggie burger with sweet potato fries inside. Noah held back a grimace and closed the lid. It’s the thought that counts, he reminded himself. Even from across the country Stiles was still tracking his diet. The collusion between the two best friends made him smile though. “Thank you, Scott,” he reiterated. “It was kind of you to think of me. You can assure my son that my cholesterol is down.”

“He knows,” Scott replied. Noah huffed through his nose. From Scott’s tone of voice, it was probably best he didn’t ask exactly how his son could know that since he had just gone to the doctor yesterday. Or the day before Halloween, which would technically now be two days ago. 

“Have a seat,” Noah offered, popping the lid of his heart healthy meal back open. Scott plopped down into the seat directly across from the Sheriff and jerked his Zorro hat off his head, tossing it frisbee style onto the chair beside him. Noah snuck a few fries and sighed, his body relaxing now that he food before him as well as his practically adopted son. “How was your first Halloween in college?”

“Ok.” Scott shrugged. “Everyone else got pretty drunk so I mostly just got people home and in bed.”

Noah’s stomach rumbled quietly, but he blushed knowing Scott could hear it perfectly well. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat while Scott grinned at him from behind his mask beatific as a saint. Noah chuckled at himself and grabbed his veggie burger. He took a couple bites then said, “That was good of you. Thank you for your service.”

“You’re welcome,” Scott demurred, his brown cheeks turning faintly pink. He shrugged again. “I can’t really drink or whatever, so…”

“You’re a fine, young man,” Noah insisted, putting his burger down so he could wipe his face with a mildly damp napkin. “You should be proud. I am.”

Scott ducked his head, a softer, more internal smile on his face. “Thanks, Mr. S,” he mumbled to his lap.

Second handedly embarrassed, Noah coughed and blushed a little himself. “Of course, son.”

With those words Scott snapped his head up and then somehow everything changed between them forever. Noah groaned into his arm, his face burning red. He panted, staring blankly into the leather cushioning on his office couch as Scott pulled his boxers down over the swell of his ass. Noah fidgeted, his knees pressing into the edge of the couch seat, his now bare bum hanging out in the slightly chilly air. He shivered, feeling more exposed than he could ever remember being, but his balls tingled all the same with more interest than had been shown in a long while. 

Kneeling behind the Sheriff, Scott admired the older man’s thickly round, surprisingly firm, and hairy, hairy hole. He rubbed his hands together, then brought them up to Noah’s ass cheeks cupping the pair tenderly. “Oh, Jesus,” Noah mumbled, a new heat flaring in his belly while his son’s best friend gently squeezed and rubbed his furry cheeks. “Is this alright?”

The genuine concern in Scott’s voice made something in Noah’s chest melt. “Yeah,” he hastily affirmed, biting his lip. “Yeah, son.”

Behind him, Scott stifled another moan, putting more strength into his groping hands. Noah drooped deeper into his arched position, pushing his ass back into Scott’s warm and amazingly soft hands. The younger man continued rubbing his cheeks, massaging them, memorizing the feel of them against his palms. Scott leaned in and took a couple silent sniffs of the Sheriff. His cock throbbed against the tight trousers of his Zorro costume. 

Suddenly reminded of his outfit, Scott yanked the mask off his face and untied the leather belt that held his plastic sword and sheath on his hips. The plastic clattered to the ground. Noah peeked over his shoulder at the loss of warmth and gawked watching Scott free his erection from his cheap costume pants. “Scott?”

Now it was Scott’s turn to blush. “I--I like asses,” he sputtered. Scott went down on his knees again and resumed kneading the Sheriff’s taut ass. Noah sighed, his head dropping back down. Scott brought his cheeks together, then pried them apart stealing eyefuls of Noah’s pink, unshaven pucker. “I like how hairy you are, sir.”

“Oh God, Scott,” Noah gasped. His dick twitched despite the shame coursing through him. He shouldn’t be doing this. Not with Scott. His son’s best friend. A kid he’s known since he was in elementary school. Scott was an adult now true, but there was something decidedly wrong about the whole thing. And what’s worse, Noah didn’t mind it. 

In fact, he liked it. He liked Scott’s hands on his skin. He liked Scott’s heart. He liked being appreciated. His body liked being touched. It had been a long time. And he liked knowing it was Scott doing this to him. Making his dick firm up in a way it hadn’t in years. “Did I say something wrong--”

“No, Scott,” Noah assured him. He hated to do it, but he needed there to be a divide. A separation from the kid who used to wreak havoc with his son and the young man getting him horned up. “Put your mask back on, son,” he requested under his breath. “Please?”

After a moment, Scott nodded and reached down for the discarded plastic mask. “Yes, sir,” he replied. Noah didn’t like the uncertainty in Scott’s tone, and he also didn’t like when Scott had to take both hands off of him to settle the mask back into place. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, son,” Noah said, not needing to look over his shoulder to know Scott had honored his request. “Thank you, Scott.”

“Call me, Zorro,” Scott playfully countered, getting into the spirit of things as he got his hands back onto Noah’s supple ass.

“O-okay, Zorro,” Noah stuttered. “Y-you say you like my--I mean how hairy I am, son?”

“A lot,” Scott confirmed with all the youthful vigor of a man in his early twenties. “I’m bisexual, sir.”

“Uh huh,” Noah agreed, nodding. The point was obvious given their current situation, but Noah felt better somehow for knowing his second son’s truth. “I think--I think I might be too,” he admitted, cheeks flushing pink. 

“Thank you, sir,” Scott murmured. “For sharing that with me. For sharing  _ this  _ with me.”

“Anytime...Zorro.”

The tension broken, Scott leaned forward and brought his nose in closer to the cleft of Noah’s ass. His plastic mask brushed against coarse hair as he dragged his nose gingerly around the older man’s crack getting a sharper hit of his musk. Noah moaned, shivering at the intimacy he had gone so long without. He swallowed and reached down to his semi-hard cock, loosely grabbing the shaft while Scott continued sniffing his ass. He gasped when soft full lips met his furled pucker. “Scott---I mean, Zorro!”

“I really like asses,” Scott asserted. To prove his point, he kissed each of Noah’s furry cheeks, then swiped his tongue along the older man’s rim. Noah shook from head to toe. Never in his life had anyone done anything like this with him. Seeing it in porn and feeling it happen on his own body were as stupendously different as the sun is from Pluto. 

Scott smiled into Noah’s skin, hearing the uptick in Noah’s pulse and the flood of arousal that followed. “Should I keep going, sir?”

“Yes,” Noah gushed. “Absolutely yes, son.  _ Please _ .”

With nothing to hold him back, Scott worshipped his best friend’s dad’s hairy hole well past dawn. He didn’t stop except when Noah’s knees needed a break and they switched positions so that Noah was lying on the couch with his legs in the air with Scott holding them up. He lapped at the Sheriff’s hole and slipped his tongue inside until the older man came over his own hirsute chest.

And Scott soon followed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos welcome!


End file.
